Things that could be worse

1. Nutria rats. I know that those of you who didn’t immediately pop on to Google and look them up are imagining a hideous beast, like those found in the subways of New York, only larger more fearsome due to the warmth and dampness of the Louisiana bayous. I assure you, they aren’t as fearsome as you imagine. In fact, these only-slightly-insane people have a nutria as a pet. They look like miniature beavers with rat tails. The fact that they are an invasive imported rodent that are doing their part to help in the destruction of the already-disappearing Louisiana wetlands are the only thing that makes them scary. Oh, and those teeth.

2. TTC 2.0, I guess. Though I really hoped that I would never see a 9-day luteal phase again. You know, I hoped that 2 more years on the pill might provide some normalization. So much for that hope. Who wouldn’t want to get their period every three fucking weeks? Well, we all know what this means: wine. Tonight. Please.

7 Responses to “Things that could be worse”

  1. Huh. I pictured Nutria Rats as some sort of vitamin-weilding species, possibly clad in spandex. In my version they are definitely fans of Richard Simmons.

    I have the feeling that I’ll be coming off BCPs soon too, though not for TTC reasons. (Well, maybe a little.) I’m another one hoping for some normalization and not betting on it. Infertility sucks dead nutria rats.

  2. PS~ This is totally random but from one librarian to another, what did you think of Twlight?

  3. I feel your pain sister. I too suffer the three week cycle. It’s total bullshit. Have some extra wine for me.

  4. I like how you never told me you did a post. Usually it’s such a cause for celebration and shock, but hmph. I’m a bit concerned that this means our love affair is over.

    Three week cycles are indeed dreadful, as are two heavy periods per month. Yes, that’s me turning your story into mine. well done to me.

  5. Bastard luteal phases.

  6. Stupid fucking phases. Assholes.

  7. Some lunatic imported nutria to Italy as a fur-coat-producing crop. They escaped, and now live under the Ponte Vecchio in the middle of Florence. I am not kidding.

    9 days. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. More wine.

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