My uterus says “hi”

Unrelated to the lifestyle, I’m looking to sell my eggs. I’ve noticed over the last few years my premenstrual symptoms have erupted. In my high school years, I thought PMS was a joke. I literally thought that women who complained about PMSing were weaklings using their period as an excuse to complain about something. Well, per usual, I’ve eaten my words.

I get cystic pimples, my breasts swell, I get so anxious I can’t sleep, and I’m really, really, stressed. Yesterday Mr. Right told me I’ve seemed “distant” the last few days and asked if I was ok. So considerate right? No. Fuck that mother fucker. What? I’m not chirpy for a few days and all the sudden I get the 3rd degree about it while I’m unloading the dishwasher? Like I really need to be accused of being distant when I’m clearly irritable? And btw, why am I the only one who ever fucking unloads the dishwasher. 

This just started happening in my late 20’s, but it has significantly gotten worse the past year. I’m convinced this is because my body is in it’s prime and telling me to breed. At least I was convinced of this till someone asked me if I thought it was menopause. I have a tiny bit of hope this is the case, but the chance is less than 1%.

If you’re wondering why I’m writing a blog about this, it’s mostly to rant. No one wants my eggs, and frankly, I’m insulted. First of all, I am a light-haired, blue eyed, Caucasian of Dutch descent. And in case you didn’t know: if you’re not Dutch, you’re not much. Second of all, both of my parents went to college. It’s true I dropped out at 16 and spent 5 years at trade school and community college with nothing to show, BUT there is real potential in the blood line. Third of all, my eggs are good. I mean, they are hot stuff.

I have filled out three applications on the Internet, and I’ve gotten the same responses I get from consignment shops in regards to my never used wedding dress:

“Unfortunately you don’t have what we’re looking for at this time, check back at a later date.”

I’m sorry….are you telling me people are only looking to breed white privilege sometimes?

The first rejection wasn’t too surprising because I was honest about my drug use on the application, but by the third application I only drank at communion. Still no bites. I’m pretty sure the reason no one wants them is because I’m too old. So since they are expiring, I’ll sell them to you at a discounted rate. Contact me if you’re interested and we’ll work something out.

Happy Friday!

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