I’ve been to the gym today, thank goodness. I didn’t go again yesterday because I still felt all ‘snarly and tangled’. Yesterday I mostly wallowed by feeding my obsession with ‘Sookie Stackhouse’ novels to the point where I began to feel a real sort of sadness that I would never meet a vampire, or rather that I would never meet a particular vampire called Eric who is the very tall, very handsome, astounding in the sack, Sheriff of Area 5 currently wooing our female protagonist, Sookie. I take comfort (and so does my husband, I expect) in the fact that Eric resembles my husband somewhat, with his Nordic features (the chap that plays Eric in the television series is called Alexander Skarsgard – check him out if you like very tall muscular blondes) and height. Lucky for me, Sam does not have fangs. I also did some ironing whilst watching some old episodes of True Blood, which is the television series based on the novels (I realise that this revelation may bring me down somewhat in the estimation of some readers, but being an English teacher means that I have spent so much time reading hefty literature such as ‘Jane Eyre’ etc, that I rather enjoy a much ‘lighter’ form of fictional expression, at times).
Anyway, I felt a little better today, not least I expect, because I think that part of the reason for my feeling particularly terrible on Monday and yesterday, is that my ‘ovarian operating system’ rebooted (that is a euphemistic way of saying that I got my period – I realise that I have now ruined the point of using a euphemism, but I felt that it was so euphemistic that people probably wouldn’t get it. Anyway, I think that once someone has talked about their cervix, it can’t get much more personal, right?). So, I have mixed feelings about this; it’s a good thing because now I will know roughly when I’m ovulating, but this is maybe not great because I don’t want to become obsessed like I did last time and get too stressed. It also means that my body is in working order and that maybe, just maybe, I will lose some of this wretched flab that seems to be clinging on for dear existence, despite my best efforts (I’m pretty sure that pregnancy has changed my genetic code so that my fat cells have brains of their own and a sheer determination of the like which calls to mind salmon trying to swim uphill…). However, I have to admit, that a tiny part of me was hoping that I might magically (well, not magically – I’m no Virgin Mary) be pregnant already. Silly, I know, but it has been 7 and a half weeks.
So, here’s hoping that my mood stays at least a little brighter – I’m going to take a shower and then probably curl up with a Kindle full of Eric the vampire – much recommended for those seeking a little respite from real life.