Last night I wrote a big long post about how fucking shitty I felt on Friday(*), but then I lost it – sometimes browsers just eat things. Then a huge storm rolled in and I had to shut my computer down.

Brett and I walked up to the top of the driveway, it was around ten last night, and watched the light show for a bit. Lightning was crackling across the sky, the clouds were huge and forboding, and the wind was fresh and cool. I love Iowa summer storms. They’re huge, and loud, and beautiful, and scary, and the Northwest has nothing on them. They’re amazing.

“This is so disco!” I squealed, staring in awe at the flashing clouds. Brett stood beside me, solid and warm, and the wind whipped around us.

“We’d better go in. It’s about to start,” he said, and taking my hand he headed back toward the house. His weather sense is uncanny; the moment we stepped inside the rain came.

Stella huddled under the stairs in the basement for the duration.

~ ~ ~
(*) In a nutshell, I woke up Friday fevered and sick, with a horrible painful tightness in my chest. I was in that muzzy, fuzzy space that is sickness and I did not dig it.

If that weren’t enough, the whole day was basically a never-ending goddamned panic attack as well.

And on top of all THAT, my period started. Which is impossible, because i just had one sixteen days ago, and I’m supposed to be ovulating right now. MY HORMONES ARE TOTALLY FUCKED. Apparently I’m not producing enough progesterone to keep my uterine lining IN MY UTERUS, where it belongs.

Friday was about enduring. Just getting through the day, one minute to the next. It was, in point of fact, probably one of the two or three worst days of my entire life.

I have an appointment with my midwife next week. She said in her email, “Let’s see…pap, full exam, check your hemoglobin, etc, etc, etc. Also, straighten out your hormones, stop that infuriating mid-cycle bleeding, resolve all emotional/mental/physical/psychic symptoms… yeah, that will cost you $75.”

I love my midwife.