Item – I was poking about on Google Reader, and noticed I have garnered quite a few more subscribers since Christmas. Hello, new subscribers! How lovely of you to drop by!
Item – The Cute Ute is testing my patience to the fucking limit. Another four days of bad cramps – well, not cramps, as such. It’s the persistent, bruised, burning ache that I get with my period, which feels like someone stamped on me with a spiked and flaming boot. And I’ve been spotting quite heavily, unnervingly heavily on Wednesday. Dr Google tells me this often happens to women with adenomyosis. Dr Google also went on and on about endometrial biopsies, polyps, fibroids, cancer, Alien (do I look like John Hurt?) and surprise pregnancies.
Item – I took a pregnancy test anyway, as mid-cycle pain and bleeding did, once, memorably, equal suprise! You’re pregnant! It was negative. Given the gettin’ jiggy drought my grumpy uterus has imposed, this is absolutely correct and according to the Laws of Nature.
Item – Being so sore and crampy all the time is doing wonders for my productivity at work. Ha ha.
Item – I am sick of my job. I can do it, I am good at it, I am more than a tad under-stretched by it, I am very much underpaid in it (occupational disease of library staff. Even the shelvers have at least two degrees. Anyone’d think we did it for love), the promotion prospects are dreary, it’s all being made needlessly stressful by the ridiculously long commute, chronic understaffing, and some few colleagues who are incompetent and it’s probably rude to add lazy, but I shall anyway. I was only sticking with it for the rather lovely maternity benefits, anyway. Hahahahahaha. At least I’m getting full wackaroony out of the sick-leave arrangements. Oh, God, and there’s that – I take just SO MUCH freakin’ sick leave. Miscarriages. Periods from hell. Migraines. Fucking uterus. Fucking hormones. I worry endlessly about losing this job and then never being able to get another because of my shitty health of shitness. So, my job is stressing me out and making me miserable and, unforgiveably, boring me and I am feeling guilty and scared about it all the time. Ugh.
Item – On the other hand, I have whittled off the fuck-it-it’s-Christmas misery weight, am back at Official IVF weight (were I doing IVF, which I’m not) and can now proceed on down the scale to so-bloody-there weight. I put on a skirt I haven’t worn for a while. It used to be rather tight around the middle. Then it got too tight to wear at all. And now the waist-band is so loose the whole thing keeps sliding asymmetrically down about my hips. Also, I need to buy another pair of jeans. Oh God, how I hate clothes shopping.