Blogging mojo done gone left me

It is Saturday evening. I have had a week of Satsuma the Party Ovary playing the ‘I did! I totally did! Naah, didn’t really. But now I did! OK, now I did! Kidding! Not kidding! Kidding! Hee hee hee, isn’t this fun?!?!’ game. My temperature is flailing up and down in a manner I have taken to thinking of as ‘dead cat bouncing’. Something has finally turned off the eggwhite tap, but I Will Not Hope, I Will Not Answer That Doorbell. Satsuma is giving me a disappointed pout right now, but she’s done this to me twice, TWICE, since Monday.

I am tired and pale all the time. As I’m normally a peony-cheeked Rubens of a woman, it looks a little surreal – who turned the contrast down on this mirror? I’m probably only getting over the stupid cough, but I feel like Dracula’s favourite pin-cushion.

And I hate my job. It’s a nice job that (mostly) amuses me and I get on well with all my colleagues and I do so like having a little cash to hand, but I still hate it. It is severely impinging on my favoured plan of lying in bed all day drinking tea and conducting my entire social life via the internets. Also, I can’t knit and read novels at work, as the heartless slave-driving polite and good-natured female who manages me actually expects me to actually do what I’m paid to do or some such unreasonableness.

I even bought a new sweater to cheer myself up. It’s a very nice sweater. I look at it and think ‘meh’.

If this cycle ever comes to an end (I suppose it will, as eventually I will crack and use the provera, surely?), I get to endure another HSG. I don’t want to. Not that I’m scared of the procedure itself (last time was really not so very bad, after all). But what if the One-And-Only Fallopian Tube is blocked now? I’d have to know about it, and then deal with it. *shudder*.

My Father-in-Law is waiting for open-heart surgery sometime in December. My father has developed a heart murmur. My mother wants us to spend Christmas abroad with her, and Trouble and Diva and their respective male appendages. It’ll be a nice family thing, apparantly. Errr, no.

My face seems reluctant to leave off being rubbed in a grand variety of Ifs, these days.

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4 responses to “Blogging mojo done gone left me

  • geohde

    Haha! Your chart is eerily similar to mine.

    Why only this morning I though ‘my chart looks exactly like a dead cat’s aerodynamics……’

    I have an extra ovary and still I can’t get it together….

    🙂

    J

  • Artblog

    I think I’ve lost me mojo full stop! We can wallow together dear nutty May 🙂

    And like me, if your tired and pale you’re probably anaemic and in need of some Iron supplements, ha ha, doing my doctor Artblog bit for the week. The last one, I promise!

    xxx

  • womb for improvement

    Aw, nuts, May. Sounds like things are all getting a bit on top of you. If Artblog is right about the anemia then, May, may I prescribe you a bar of green and blacks iron rich chocolate (only for the medicinal capabilities you understand). Take care.

  • Xbox4NappyRash

    If it’s any consolation I don’t have a single ovary or a tube to block at all.

    Chin up, hope all the family stuff goes well for you all.

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