Uterus - Psychotic friend from biology class

I liken my uterus to that weird kid in science class. You know the one. So socially awkward they could never understand why no one would buy into their ridiculously expensive and/or insane ideas (let’s make a geological-formation-melting laser and shoot it at countries we don’t like to make earthquakes!)



























My unwillingness to accept the perfectly lovely eggs Uterus has made just for our experiment is met with hostility and anger. I should have put a couple of knives in that pic because that’s what it feels like. A thousands knives stabbing the inside of my tummy fat.



Boyfriend will do almost anything to prevent the cyclone of hormonal rage that sometimes (always) happens around that time. But nothing ever works. It’s 24 hours of hell.

I take some small comfort in that Uterus hates exercise even more than I do. I call it ‘ovary pain’. And we’ve still got a lot of marathon training to do…