*Disclaimer for male readers: this post may make you feel weird inside, almost like being molested. I apologise in advance for alienating you. *
Uterus, fuck you. Where do you get off? (And why is it so hard to insult you without making some sort of sexual innuendo?)
For Years, Every month, you wasted my hard-earned bodily resources to build a fitting environment for the baby you are so sure we are going to be having.
Every month, you end up having to clean house and start over because, guess what? WE ARE NOT HAVING A FUCKING BABY EVER AGAIN!!! Do you not realise that this time next year I will be 50.. I mean Come on… (pardon the pun)
You seem to have figured out that I will not allow you to make a baby and are therefore continuing your obnoxious behavior just to spite me.
Let me be very clear, uterus: you keep on making my life a living hell every couple of months , You are not even regular now, not that you ever were before but at least I had an idea where I stood, this coming and going and then reappearing 5 months later is not on Do you understand?
And being overly dramatic will not solve anything. I am old enough now not to be scared by the sight of gallons of blood, I know that I am not dying….
Am I supposed to feel sorry for you when you are lying around bleeding like that? That’s my fucking blood you are wasting! Have you ever stopped to consider how your childish tantrums affect my life?
You see, uterus, you are attached to my other organs and when you thrash around in anger, they become quite upset. Your little hissy fits prevent me from doing anything that cannot be accomplished while in the fetal position.
Also, you have somehow convinced my cells that they need to stock up on water for the apocalypse. This is not funny. I do not enjoy having to cart around the extra 7 pounds of water that my freaked out cells are hoarding away because of your fear-mongering. It makes me feel gross and unattractive. and hey Im fat enough and gross enough as it is without your help.
You see, when you carry on like this, you should know, there is something wrong with you – that maybe you wouldn’t be able to construct a fetus properly. come on again I will say, I am old, I am past it… I am 49… I am too old for babies……. I DO NOT WANT ANY MORE CHILDREN!!
A major step in the right direction would be for you to grasp the concept of punctuality.
You are supposed to work on a 28-day schedule. Either stay to a routine and come on a regular basis so I can at least be prepared, or piss off completely
I don’t want to spend every month of the rest of my very reduced, fertile life vacillating between avoiding wearing white trousers and skirts and desperately searching for emergency tampons because I never know when you are going to show your ugly head.
Secondly, no more temper tantrums. You are supposed to be a nurturing and gentle organ so stop acting like some strung out schizophrenic with a God-complex.
Thirdly, be nice to the other organs. They are more important than you. In fact, I could live without you completely if I so desired, so stop acting so godd*mn important. You are a floppy pouch of extremely stretchy skin – big f**king deal. Get over yourself.
and Fourthy (is there such a word)
Stop messing around with my hormones…….. my mood swings………
Not only do I not enjoy PMT… my partner in life Allan is not that keen either,
Not to mention the fact that it scares the kids… Although maybe I am giving them an advance warning of what married life is going to be like……
Now please vacate my body and never ever come back again.. YOU ARE NOT NEEDED!!