Do you know what pisses me off?
Well, apart from everything, I’m easily pissed off.
But just right now, what is pissing me very much off indeed (can you tell by the swearing?), is the bloody irony, that back in the Autumn I was ovulating solo. Yes, OK, late, and erratically, but I totally was. Start Clomid, stop ovulating. Stay stopped. Stop but totally. Up the Clomid. No doing. Try a third time. Nope. Satsuma pulls all her follicles in and pretends to be dead. Weeks pass. Eight weeks.
Fine, I cry. Bollocks to the Clomid. We shan’t bother any more. I will set fire to the remaining packets with much ceremony in the back yard. Ha ha.
And Satsuma, who is two parts contrariness to three parts laziness, hearing this, yawns, rolls over, and idly pops one out.
Can I stop myself from thinking about how many au-naturale cycles I could have had in the last six months if I hadn’t been battering Satsuma senseless with Clomid? Can I buggery.