I'm sitting in the bathroom, watching the color creep up the stick, and I'm thinking to myself,
Right now, in this moment, it could go either way. Right now, in this moment, it is both ways.
It may surprise you to discover that I'm not actually referring to whether or not I'm harboring a new life form within my womb. No, what I'm pondering in this moment is a person's faith in the accuracy of at-home pregnancy tests. And really, it all comes down to the result of said test. Or, to be stricly accurate, the desired result.
In this instance, the result is negative, and so my reaction is,
Pfft, these things are wrong all the time.
Of course, this is in direct opposition to the rush of overwhelming relief that flooded through me the first time I got a negative from such a test (I was a freshman in college, if that tells you anything about my mental state). I tossed the stick away and set off about my life with a spring in my step and a whistle on my lips: in no way did I feel the urge to second-guess that single blue line.
Likewise, had it been a little blue plus sign I was staring at a few moments ago, I'd have taken it as Gospel Truth... but it wasn't, and so I remain skeptical.
(Which, let's face it, is preferable to being crushed.)
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