O Woe Is Me

What a terrible start to the year! While you’d never guess it by looking at her, one of our friends has Polynesian Ovaries. It’s a disorder that makes getting pregnant more difficult. I know it’s hard to believe since Polynesians cover a good portion of the earth. And how Polynesian Ovaries wound up in a Canadian woman is beyond me. It must be some kind of evolutionary mutation or something. Isn't it weird how some women find it so hard to get pregnant and for others getting pregnant is easier than falling off a piece of cake. What’s even weirder is that when I mentioned this during a yearly meeting in a group for the intellectually gifted that I belong to, my membership to this group, known as Menses, was cancelled. Even though there must have been three hundred people in the room when they announce my removal you could have heard a hat drop. And if that wasn’t enough, my counselling load is way too high. I’ve encouraged several clients to seek happiness by moving to a distant city, all to no anvil. My wife is remaining obstinately oblivious to my marvellous sense of humour (“If you have to tell me that it’s a joke then it’s not that funny”). I’ve had a chronic Post Natal Drip since November causing me to cough all night. My kids don’t want to eat anything but Krap Dinner. I guess my parenting ‘best-before-date’ has long since expired. Let me just say that my mood has soured of late and I now look, to borrow a phrase from Israel Shahak, for “encouraging signs of polarization” where ever they may be found. I’m ready to fight at the drop of a pin. If it wasn’t for the fact that I haven’t recently given birth, I’d swear that I was sliding into a Post Mortem Depression. The best thing to do is go flip on the TV and watch “The Young and the Breastless.” If there wasn't such a stigmatism for watching the soaps I'd invite a fiend over to watch it with me.