"Don’t make me go all Missy Elliot on your ass!"

There’s a Cheryl Wheeler song called “Is it peace or is it Prozac?” I find myself asking a similar question this morning: Is it Clomid, or am I a bitch? When I took Clomid before I started having odd dreams, and then I was pregnant and my dreams turned downright bizarre. I started a new round of Clomid yesterday, and last night I dreamed that I paid two kids–big strapping boys from my 4th period class–to beat up a woman that I work with, a really obnoxious woman who annoys me even on Fridays and holidays and days when I am not taking Clomid. It was a really vivid dream, and I remember feeling extremely satisfied when I saw the results of the ass-kicking in the dream. They really gave me my money’s worth, let me tell you. I slept like a baby and woke up quite happy. I am slightly alarmed by the dream and my resulting happy feeling, because I am a nonviolent pacifist who cringes at the sight of someone causing pain to another living thing. I would never beat someone up, or pay someone to do it for me. Of course, the last time I took Clomid I wanted to blow up the Black and Decker man because he wouldn’t give me a refund.

Yeah…it’s definitely the Clomid.


One thought on “"Don’t make me go all Missy Elliot on your ass!"

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