Commoditization

Did you know that my time costs money?
And that keeping four vials of sperm in some weird container also costs money?
And that to use them you also have to pay money?
That to sit down in an office with a famous doctor of reproductive medicine for 15 mins. also means you need to get that roll of twenties out?
The world is all about commodity: who wants what, who's got it, who'll give it to you in exchange for something else.

You might have guessed that I'm tired, overworked, irritated, aggravated, and annoyed or I wouldn't be so ironic about something which matters so much to me.

Anyway, there you have it. I had my last hamburger today for the next five months. I will be gradually relinquishing coffee, wine, raw meat and fish, double cream and a slew of other favourite foods in coming weeks to prepare my body. I will even go take that Pilates class on Tuesday evenings (unless Fresco can convince me to take a Latin dance class instead).

Because in June, project baby is on the rails and we only have four more goes left at getting it right.

My body is a temple. Repeat: my body is a temple. Repeat: my body is a temple.

Can I have a glass of wine now please?