Riding the clomid crazy train

I'm home sick today, and figured I'd take a moment before nap time to do a little catch-up. I had my interview two weeks ago (well, it'll be two weeks as of tomorrow), and there's been no word, announcement, or job offer. I'm honestly not sure how I feel about it all. Supervisor Karol has opened up a big can of crazy, and I don't know that I'd be able to work under her as a "real" employee even if a miracle occurred and I was offered the job. I mean, I just can't even begin to describe the crazy that wafts off of this woman. So much crazy that random people in the building comment sympathetically when they realize just whom I work under. It's really nuts.

So I called in to my agency this morning to let them know I was taking off for illness. The agent assumed I had cold bug, and I just along with it because it was easier. Besides, I really didn't want to have to explain the agonizing pain of having an abscess in the crease of my armpit, and that moving that arm causes shafts of agony to lance through me. And I don't even want to go into what will happen in the next 24-48 hours, when it bursts open.

Anyway, I hate the timing of it all, because I know this will all end up looking really suspicious: that I just happen to get "ill" starting on Thursday, and will probably be home tomorrow on Friday, too... right before a holiday on Monday. I've been the boss before, and I know I would secretly be thinking that someone just wanted an extra-long holiday weekend. Oh well, I can't help what people think. If anyone gives me shite about it, maybe I'll hike up my shirt, peel back the gauze pad that will be covering the healing wound, and let them get a good look at the raw hole in my flesh.

The moods I've been in lately, I'd do it, too. I decided I wanted to give clomid a try for a few months, to hopefully get me ovulating regularly again post m/c. I've been not-pregnant longer than I was pregnant, and my body still isn't back to normal. Back when I was anovulatory, a few cycles of clomid are what kick-started my body, resulting in somewhat-normal ovulation even when I wasn't on meds; I'm hoping it works again.

But of course there's a drawback: the side effects. I've done clomid, femara, and even a couple of soy cycles, and never felt the raging moodiness that so many women talk about getting with estrogen-tinkering drugs (especially clomid). Five previous clomid cycles, and the worst I would say about them is that I experienced quite painful ovulation. Never had the whole emotional thing, though.

I can never say that again. Last week was clomid week, Monday cd3 through Friday cd7, and by the time Friday rolled around, I was certifiable. Worst part, though, is that it took me several days to figure out why I was such a crazed bitch. Don't get me wrong; I fully accept, embrace and celebrate my inner bitch. But Clomid Bitch is another animal entirely, and no one is safe from her wrath, breakdowns, and hysteria.

Last Friday was the day when Supervisor Karol showed her ass. I know I wasn't overreacting by being upset by her words and actions, because the other 3 people in the area were also aghast and upset. But I, or rather Clomid Bitch, was so pissed and offended that I nearly walked off the job and quit.

Saturday morning I was expecting a phone call from my BFF Cheri to go to the zoo with her and my goddaughter Chava. Well, the phone never rang. And of course, I didn't call because something in my crazy-brain told me that I bother my friends by calling them and wanting to see them, and that if they wanted to see me they would call ME (I know, it makes no sense at all). I moped around the house for hours, getting progressively upset, convinced that no one loves me, no one wants my company, and that I am going to die alone in a horrible retirement home where they tie you to the bed. It turned out that she had indeed called, but that there was something funky going on with either the network or my phone, because I didn't get a message until the next day.

You may think I'm joking, but I am deadly serious: I was honestly on the verge of quitting my much-needed temp job, and writing off my best friends of 15 years, because I was emotionally unstable from freaking clomid. I seriously became the Mayor of Crazytown. Luckily, though, once I realized how much more intense things were and that it was because of clomid, I was able to keep myself on a more even keel. If I decide to take clomid again, I think I'll warn my BFFs so they can be my support system.