Gyn appointment yesterday. No visible reason for the unending blood and pain. Doctor and I agreed that God is a misogynistic bastard. Well, he agreed to the misogynist part, at least. I don't think I tacked on the 'bastard' until I got home and the cramps really hit hard. It is now day 11. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Kill me*.
On the plus (I think... time will tell) side, I am off the god-forsaken birth control pills. This means that now my body will do whatever it wants, instead of doing whatever it wants in spite of the hormones I stuff inside it. I'm somehow convinced things will be better. I'm technically supposed to go back if I don't have a period in the next two months, but fuck dat shit, I will consider it a blessing from the heavens if I never get another period in my life. I know, I know, infertility, osteoporosis, blah blah blah fishcakes. I no longer give a damn. Infertility does not bother me and never has. I will take my calcium supplements with a smile.
My dad's birthday is this Saturday. I doubt there will be much of a shindig down at Casa del Wacky, as... well, let's just say I inherited my 'party' genes from Dad.
Mmmm, sushi. I need to make sushi again... it'd be cheaper than going out and buying it. My only problem is the rice. I cannot, for the life of me, cook rice. It always comes out underdone, or mush. Drives me nuts, but since I shouldn't be eating rice anyway (supposed to be low-carbing, and for the most part I avoid rice and pasta. Except with sushi), I guess it's not that big a deal...
*You lucky stiffs are actually missing out on the "OMG I hate my body and everything about it and I want it to die" rant, which is something I have been sobbing into a pillow approximately 3+ times a day for the past week or so. My pillows are thoroughly sick of me. :]