Bulletin From No-Man’s-Land

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.

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5 responses to “Bulletin From No-Man’s-Land

  • AMH

    Jealous, oddly. Stopped my own provera course on Friday, and nothing as of Wednesday. Honestly, now we’re doing this? Have been for a round of “mayan abdominal massage,” learned to call my uterus “she” and visualize “her” effortlessly cleansing herself, and accepted wacky new-age business about storing feelings in my liver. Then finally resorted to the best medical technology has to offer in form of provera. And here I am, day umpty-plus of a cycle that will not freaking end. Cue dramatic sigh.

    Good luck with the dissertation.

  • korechronicles

    I love the way you have calculated the number of words you need to write each day as I do this as well. I am sure you are highly disciplined however, unlike me, as my calculations then turn from 2000 words a day for six days to, oh well I can write 2400 in five days, then, lalala, 3000 each day for the next four days will get me there. And that’s how I find myself staying up all night, wrapped in a doona, with icy fingers and seventy-five thousand cups of tea, trying to write 12,000 words before breakfast.

    Hoping the 12000 words come seamlessly to mind, spill onto the page like smarties from a box and you can quickly recline on a sofa with chocolates and a self satisfied smile. And get all that next cycle stuff underway.

  • Eliza

    Urgh. Good look with the period and the dissertation (in whichever order they end up occurring), and my house hasn’t burnt down YET so we’re good šŸ™‚

  • Heather

    YAY for the start of another cycle!!! (not quite as much YAY for clomid itself)

  • womb for improvement

    Ta-dah! welcome to another cycle. Good luck for this one.

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