You know when you get a sudden surfeit of something you normally don't have, and it feels so danged luxurious you just want to buy a white tiger and a smoking jacket to enjoy the full effect?

Well, it's three o'clock and I'm not at work, so I have the rest of the day all to my lonesome. I owe this to a bout of terrible, terrible period pain*, certainly not the worst I've ever experienced but definitely the most acute. I've only just started to get used to having a uterus again after taking out the rod of glory and fun times. It's a crazy little medical implant, that one. It's either horrible for you or fantastic, and I was in the latter category.

Anyway. I went out today planning on doing all manner of practical things, ignoring the roiling demon in my pelvis. I'd only just arrived in Cash Converters to look for my stolen camera when it hit like a punch. I felt sick, I was shaking, I was confused. I drove home ashen-faced, where I took a bunch of codeine and paced around the house waiting for it to work. My God, if that was a hint of just how painful my uterus can be I am never, ever having children. I knew it would pass, but I also knew I couldn't effectively pick up a pen or drink water, so I called my boss to say I'd be sick. I then passed out on the couch with a pillow clutched between my legs and BB Cat draped over my head.

I literally woke up ten minutes ago, and I feel great. I have an hour and a half until close of business, so all I've got to do is flatten my bed hair, race out the door and finish doing what I need to. Dang, I'm in such a good mood, what with it being International Talk Like A Pirate Day and all, I might even pop down the shops to buy some things to cook dinner.

The world is my oyster, and I can do anything I like all night. Yarrgh, me hearties, everything's coming up Rachael.


*if you think period pain is TMI then I suggest you return to primary school and resume giggling whenever anyone says 'titmouse.'