A week out from the monthly blood sacrifice to the fertility goddess, and I notice my left breast is tender. The discovery upsets me a great deal more than it should, the first sign that the fabled ritual is nearing.

To take my ever-anxious thoughts from my ever-aching titties, I commence a time wasting facebook newsfeed scroll. During which, I happen across a cute dog video. Caption reads “Abandoned dog finds his ‘furever’ home” ………what could possibly go wrong?

45 minutes and a thread of 10 different abandoned animal videos later, we’re going home from work early because were ‘sick’……Sick of all the injustice! Of all the cruel people allowed to adopt animals when they have no love for them.

“How could you just leave a member of your family on the side of the road to starve?! There are plenty of other people who would gladly take your fur baby off your hands if you don’t want them. I will take them off your hands!” *cries hysterically as the melodious notes of Kings of Leon's 'use somebody' hum through my car radio*

I go home to my fiancé in tears, armed with a smart phone showing my most recent google search; “dog adoptions in Australia”. All the babies that need my love and protection. He deflects, cleverly asking what I would like for dinner. The only subject to trump that of my ovaries’ need to protect those small and helpless. However, we now find ourselves in yet another emotional dilemma.

What do I want for dinner?

What could possibly placate the monster that is my stomach whilst not adding to the bloat occupying my belly pooch? In simple terms, what greasy treat with no nutritional value can I eat that won’t make me fat?

Not sure? Neither was my fiancé, and that’s when the trouble began.

“How can we possibly get married when we don’t even really know each other!?”

I wake the following morning to discover my ovaries have already commenced fight club. I imagine them to look something like the Piranha plants from Super Mario, aggressively snapping at each other. As Large and obnoxious as first prize pumpkins. They feel almost as big as the monstrosity of a zit that has made itself home (uninvited) in the centre of my forehead. It’s volcanic and mocks me as I stand there hopeful, Tarte shape tape concealer in hand. “That’s not going to fix this honey. I may no longer be red, but you still look like a unicorn that’s been in the good paddock.”

.......Arsehole.

My mutinous stomach wins out as I console my crater face with the goodness of Cadburys. Marble, Snack, Topdeck, l don’t care just give it to me! This is the reason I even own sweat pants. I’ll walk the calories off later (I won’t) or do one of those HIIT workouts (certainly not) I’m just in too much pain right now and need some comfort. “Any chance of a foot massage? My cankles are murdering me.”

I have many weaknesses; I am only human after all. Food, as you can imagine, is a big one. But up there right alongside my daily regular bread, is a man picking up my child sized foot and squeezing holy hell out of it. The way his strong, calloused hands curl around my toes, making the muscles in his arms flex just a little. Even the fertility Goddess herself is struggling to maintain decorum. Oh my!

Hello, you.

I see you sitting there, watching your anime lab on the TV, pretending that my foot in your lap is not an inconvenience. That you wouldn’t rather be playing COD Warzone with your friends right now. Your lips slightly parted so that I might imagine what it would feel like to be kissing them. Complaining that you can’t breathe through your nose because of your severe allergies. It’s cute, the way you play the shy card, but I know when I’m being seduced.

Honestly, give this man a medal for dealing with my shit.

It’s P-Day and all of a sudden everything starts to make sense. I realise that some dark force had taken control of my body my mind, and I was coerced to act in a way completely out of character.

Had it not been for this dark force (commonly referred to as ‘Hormones’) I would not have allowed myself to be so easily distracted. I would have ordered pizza and introduced my fiancé to Hank, Penny and Bruiser whom I met online at petrescue.com