The husband, however, loves nothing more than to force me to do things I don't want to do in the belief that they are character forming. You know the sort of thing: phoning up for taxis, complaining in shops, going up tall buildings, blow jobs... He told me that I needed to hand the letter to my boss in person and explain why I was doing so.
Before I had even sat down and handed my boss the ominously sealed envelop I was gabbling away with an apology, practically retracting what I had written in my letter. "Well, I've asked for six weeks but, you know, if that is too long four weeks would be fine".
I was actually shaking. I have no idea why. I'm not in the slightest bit scared of my boss.
Eventually I calmed down enough to explain what I was asking for, and why.
This isn't a decision that can be made overnight, I knew that, so he asked if it was alright if I didn't get an answer until next week.
"Fine, fine" I acquiesced hastily. Only a week! Man, this is the first time during this whole infertility gubbins that I haven't had a minimum of a two week wait.
So now I'm waiting. I've checked his diary (like you wouldn't!) and he hasn't scheduled any extra-ordinary meetings with people who wield the power of unpaid leave. But he does have a meeting with his boss on Thursday. So I am kind of hoping that he will raise it then.
Which might mean I get an answer then.
Thursday also happens to be my 35th birthday. (Excuse me one moment *runs down corridor, screams, runs back, acts normal*).
On Thursday I have invited both my boss, and his boss, out for celebratory birthday drinks after work (along with other people - I'm not that much of a creep). So if they turn down my request that could make for a particularly frosty atmosphere in the pub. I hasten to add that I invited them before I decided to request the leave.
Now all I have to remember:
- If they say "No," don't get drunk and abusive
- If they say "Yes," don't get drunk and tell them I love them.
Life was much simpler when I was cycling and therefore not getting drunk.