Monday is never a nice word

I can't think of what good things come on Monday. I guess Lilah was born on Monday last year. So that makes it an okay day sometimes. I never sleep good on Sunday night and last night was no exception. I kept waking up thinking about taking a pregnancy test. I finally took one at 5am. It was negative, which was expected. It is still pretty early so a positive wasn't very likely. I don't know how I feel about this cycle. I am crampy and my boobs hurt. But that can be from PMS or from the progesterone. I just keep reminding myself that everything will be ok regardless of the outcome.
When will I test again? I would like to say I won't test again tomorrow and Wednesday. But I am sure I will. I have to have the bloodwork regardless, and it is always a pain to find a vein. So I can't think of much worse of a scenario than being poked multiple times just to confirm the negative that I would already know. It sounds like torture to me. So to go in somewhat blind is appealing, still having a slim bit of hope, maybe that won't be so torturous. But I have this trait about myself. I need to know everything. So I am sure this will take over and I will again wake up multiple times wondering when I can pee on a stick.
And here I sit at work trying to let the work occupy my mind. It isn't working. I have some meetings in a few and should be busy all morning. So I guess for a few hours I can keep my mind off my uterus.
All I can control now is how I feel. I continue to pray.