Must write 2000 words a day for the next six days. This is doable. I can do it. I have taken several days off work to do it in. Admittedly, it involves those peculiar skills I have spent my whole life failing to aquire, patience, persistence, and ignoring the strapping young men in teeny tight shorts on the telly. Also, am wrestling with desperate temptation to turn entire dissertation into an extended whinge called ‘Students Today: Why They Suck, or, Get a Grip and Learn to Fucking Spell Already.’
Meanwhile, the innards are lurking. I finished the provera on Sunday. It is Wednesday morning. Beyond some slight crampiness, no signs at all of period. Where is period? Why is it not here? Does it not know I have a timetable to keep and starting yesterday would have been favourite, so I didn’t have to leave the house during worst bits? Stupid period. Oh, I do know it can take over a week for a period to start after provera. I’m not worried. I am irritated. I made plans. I had time-tables. Grrrrrrrr. Pass the chocolate. First person to mention PMS gets Glared At.
And at some point in the next few days I will take a little break from ‘Students: Who Needs Them Anyway?’ and come round and kiss each and every one of you on the nose. Because I am thinking of you, even if I am carefully ignoring your blogs in a desperate bid not to get completely distracted. If anyone’s house has burnt down while I wasn’t looking, I am so, so sorry.
And back to ‘Who Let These Thickies Graduate In the First Place?’
All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.
ETA: Wrote the above, went to the loo, tah-dah! Red spotting. So. Start of my third clomid cycle, at last.