If a cow ever got the chance...

So today I took a pregnancy test. It was negative. (If you get freaked out about gynecological issues (hi, D(nmn)R), you may want to stop reading, although I promise not to get too detailed.)

Let me first say that it is possible--unlikely, but possible--that I could be pregnant. The problem is that my menstrual cycle has always been horribly irregular, which makes me slam Our Bodies, Ourselves shut in rage every time I see a fatuous sentence like "Many women can set their watches by it." The average cycle is supposedly 28 days, but mine ranges anywhere from 15 days to 38. It can go from one end of this continuum to the other in consecutive months; there's no pattern to it... But it's been a while, and we should really be taking better precautions anyway to avoid producing a small child. So I'm worried.

It was a slight relief to see the little minus sign show up in the testing window. Relief mixed with illogical anger at having wasted ten bucks when I'm not even pregnant... I think I'd make a really bad parent, which is why I don't want to have children now (or possibly ever). I mean, the kid would be fed and clothed but not much more than that; I can barely clothe myself although feeding is no problem. I could see myself screaming at it (every night for about 12 years) to leave Mommy alone, and blaming it for my failure to do anything with my life. I don't think I would be good at empathizing with it or singing to it or making up creative games for it to play. All of which my parents did for me, and seemed to enjoy. Maybe that's the problem, they were such good parents that now my standards for raising my own hypothetical child are impossibly high...

I will admit to being curious about what the offspring of C and myself would be like. We've talked about this before and we think that existence would be tough on the kid, as it would almost certainly be 1) fat, 2) suicidal, and 3) smart enough to make an easy target for mockery...

Believe it or not, I was going to end this entry by talking about salad dressing (which shows you what my mood swings have been like this week), but I don't think it belongs. I feel kind of sad anyway from thinking about the hypothetical child. Perhaps tomorrow we will all be more frivolous and capable of discussing flaxseed oil and the B-vitamin complex.

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