This weekend has been quite a hard one for me. Not in my usual holy-hell-it’s-been-a-hard-weekend kinda way. Quite the opposite actually. I’m chemical free. Well, that’s not strictly true. I think I inhaled some leaf spray on Saturday whilst killing aphids, but you don’t get much cleaner than that.
On Saturday I started taking the fertility drug Clomiphene. They recommend that you avoid alcohol and caffeine whilst taking it, in order to maximise the effects. I’ve known this for quite some time, but I’ve managed to compartmentalise it in my head and ignore it. It became very real very fast.
I got up early on Saturday to go to boxing. I couldn’t have my pre-training Red Bull. When I was done I got home and couldn’t have my usual coffee whilst reading the paper. Every time I felt thirsty and went to the fridge I had to remind myself that the Coke Zero was out of bounds. We had Shaun’s parents staying for the weekend. Around 4pm they brought out the wine and cheese. No wine for me. We went up the Sky Tower for dinner. For the first time in my life I ordered a virgin cocktail. I couldn’t even say it without laughing. No wine with dinner. It was starting to wear a bit thin by that stage. (Nothing compared to lunch at the vineyard on Sunday, though.)
You’d think that all this clean living would mean that I was full of the joys of life. Nope. I seem to have been robbed of that as well! I am tired and irritable. I worked hard all weekend to keep the irritability in check but the exhaustion was harder to handle. I had to have day sleeps both days.
It gets even more annoying. I need to go to the bathroom every 5 minutes. Well so it seems. Weird. It’s not like I’m full of booze and coffee. Since I’m purging fluid at such a great rate, why the hell am I bloated like [some revolting bloated thing]? (See? I can’t think either.)
On the up side, my breasts seem to be growing. On the down side, who the hell needs great breasts if the rest of them looks like a pig?