So I don't know if you've ever sat in your cube and contemplated how you might furtively squirt breast milk onto your finger? Or really, any part of your body, for that matter.
Because here's the thing. I sliced the tippy tip of my little finger with a scissor. This turns out to be a particularly inconvenient cut, because my wee finger is too small for the finger bandages we have, and it's hard to type with a band aid anyway. But it's a spot that re-opens easily.
And since breast milk is magic - seriously - I realized that I had this amazing resource right at my fingertips.
Now, one of my boobs is all, "Oh, pick me, pick me!" enthusiastic. That one has been known to squirt through a T-shirt. Sometimes India will pull off and she has these sprinklers of milk dousing her little face. She blinks all sweetly and confusedly.
The enthusiastic boob, however, is on the finger-cut side. The other one will rise to the occasion for India, but you really have to cajole it for pumping.
The reluctant boob would be the one I'd have to use. It wouldn't be quick and easy.
So I pictured myself sitting at my desk, shirt up, bra unhooked, squeeezing my boob, working to coax a few drops of milk onto my pinky finger...and having a colleague stop by.
What would you even say? "Hi! Want, uh, some milk?"
Awk. Ward. Horror.
So I toughed it out and waited until the pumping - the dread pumping, in the "quiet room" - and then used a little for medicinal purposes.
In other words: I'm back at the office. And, hi!