Best By

If I were a jar of mayonnaise I would be a bio-hazard. I've obviously passed my "best by" date. I got my period yesterday, after a second 20-day cycle in a row. I am trying to tell myself that my body is still adjusting after all the meds I've pumped into it in the past two years, but the voice on my left shoulder isn't buying it. "You're old", she whispers in my year, "and your body is fucked up." Thanks. I know I can always count on you. The voice on the right shoulder is either gagged or has larangytis.

Obviously I've moved to another stage of grief, its called You Suck. There must be a reason why I've not been able to conceive. I have myself convinced that I'm too lazy, selfish and morose to have a child. Or, if you want to say that in a nicer way, I'm too set in my ways and don't have either the patience or the requisite silliness to have a child. Either way, it's me. Some days it's all I can do to throw the ball a few times for my dog before I tell him to go lay down. I don't think a child would be so easily placated. Even with treats.