Item – No, I did not have a good weekend. I was menstruating, you see. I am very bad at it. I spent Saturday throwing up (but, bizarrely, not in much pain), and Sunday in horrendous pain (but, bizarrely, not throwing up), and today I am still in pain and feeling like I’ve been used to scrub out the oven and rinsed in the last of the washing-up water. And funnily enough, that’s exactly how I look, too. Only greyer.
Item – Dear Uterus, WTF? I was drugged to the eyeballs. I took all the drugs I’m prescribed, and I took them on schedule, and I didn’t miss any doses, and I didn’t throw any doses up, so, seriously, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK ARE YOU PLAYING AT? Love, May.
Item – I have missed so much work. When I do go back, I shall be crushed flat under the weight of my in-tray. Ugh.
Item – Today, H, who has been feeling a bit under-the-weather for weeks, woke up with a raging sore throat and tonsils like strawberries. So he’s home too (except I think he’s doing something productive to his CV in the study, and I am of course doing buggerall). Poor H. I think this is actually raging stress-monsters from trying to find a new job as his old one crashes into the abyss all around him. Gah. Arse. There’s nothing I can do to make this less stressful on him. In fact, here I am making it all more stressful by collapsing like a house of cards in a stiff breeze, and making him worry by refusing to eat or drink for 24 hours, milk-white in the face and silent.
Item – It actually scares me when I see how white I am in the mirror. Those of you who have met me in the rubicund flesh will know that my natural state is ‘rosy’, or even ‘fuchsia’. Seeing a kind of paper cut-out of myself, with great black rings under the eyes, makes it very hard to go back to Denial. My periods are making me very ill. It sucks. I can’t keep doing this.
Item – I keep saying that, that I can’t keep doing this. And yet, every month, caught up in the hopeful excitement of yet another timely ovulation, I think, I must keep doing this. I must. It might work this time. Next time. It might.