The fabulous doctor C has told me to wait for two periods, but I don't want to, at all. My friend English Lucy didn't wait and I don't see why I should have to either. But, unlike the Christmas story, I guess we really do have to do something.
I got my period at long last which was great. I felt "normal" again after such a long and agonizing few weeks of feeling like a freak which sucked. I hated that I was either bleeding like a lunatic or nothing. Then, we realized that, to try again it would have to be the weekend that just passed.
On New Year's Eve we hosted. It would have been a lot of fun only Z drank way over the top and felt more than rough the next day. He was writing off the whole day and repeating a mantra of: "I don't feel well" for most of the period when he was awake.
I, on the other hand, cleaned the house, threw away the bottles and packed our case for our "minimoon" in San Luis Obispo.
The Zaius was STILL sick the next day when we set off for the moon and I drove us all the way there. He kind of lay limply against the window looking as wan as a Victorian lady with a mild attack of the vapors.
We went to the Sycamore Hot Springs and recuperated by lying in our giant, sulphur-y-smelling hot-tub, eating and watching The Sopranos Season 5 on the lap top. Heaven. But not heaven enough to get it on much. We are definitely getting old.
Never mind, if our somewhat halfhearted attempts to Get Back On The Horse are not fruitful this month, we have noone to blame but ourselves. And wonderful Doctor C will be more than pleased.