When you feel flat feed it…
It’s been a bloody long time (LOL, bloody, sorry, not sorry for my personal amusement) since I’ve had to purchase the old feminine hygiene products, but I think there is still a hint of a cycle which fucks with my system.
When I’m feeling flat as a tack I feed it. Yep, iron rich lambs fry and bacon.
I possibly will not be adorning this with vegetables, possibly wont even make it to a plate, I’ll carnivore that shiz out of the pan.
As a kid I held the bowl in readiness for the livers to be extracted from the still steaming sheep guts after uncles and dad had cut a few throats. Sounds quite barbaric, but it was just farm life.
My other job was to roll cigarettes. Three different thicknesses for three different men. I stuck them in their mouths and made sure they stayed alight.
Hells Bells! Imagine asking our precious children to do that now! They would be taken away…mmmm…taken away!
Kids, wanna learn how to slaughter a sheep?
Fuck you Menopause. Two years of being an arsehole to my family and friends and I can finally give you the finger. All of those sleepless nights and hot flushes have finally come to an end. No, I haven’t finished, but I have that shit under control.
Thanks to the wonders of ancient medicine. Two rounds of acupuncture and some Chinese herbal capsules and I am sleeping.
Sleeping = not such a bitch. My kids no longer see me as this all the time.
Worst thing is as an older mum, like lots of parents these days, I have little people at home who stress the crap out of me on a good day, without throwing in some hormone imbalance and general nastiness. They have copped the worst of me, let the times change for their sake. If it was the old days, I would be entertaining my grandchildren and not permanently caring for two primary schoolers who should have a young, cool, hot mum.
To any other women out there who are wondering why they have become short fused, prickly, sweaty bitches. Get your hormones checked and when you’re told there’s not much you can do about it, get yourself some alternative therapy. One concern was me getting pregnant which would involve sex. I have been such a cow my husband wont even look at me, let alone throw me over and give me one.
My newfound niceness means I might spend some quality time with our children and perhaps fit a few minutes of parent sex in now and then.