Ominous Side Effects

Many years ago I decided to go off the pill, at the time for the purposes of trying to procreate, but off the pill nonetheless. Following a marital dissolution, I felt it prudent to return to the pill, since I envisaged much oat-sewing becoming the norm for a wee while.

Indeed, many fields were sown with oat (and indeed a variety of other grains), until I again became happily ensconced in another relationship - with N. I enjoyed being off the pill, for a number of reasons, but one of them being the feeling that I was not being held to ransom by the little white pill every morning. Whoa betide if I should forget to take it. Being off the pill forced one to consider any dalliances that might ensue and required a little more responsibility than I had seen fit to exercise.

With the longevity of the relationship with B, and a drunken comment one night from himself, I decided to return to the pill. My seemingly voracious sexual appetite needed the pill to allow intimacy at any time, any how and any way I should see fit. When that all went pear-shaped, I again thought I might drop the chemical assistance and go au naturel for the time being. (And certainly, if one is not getting any sex, who cares about the timing of my menses!).

The unfortunate side effect of the pill for me is only one. The pros are many and varied - less pain, less emotional swings, clearer skin, new and improved skip in my step (ok, that last one is implied...). The con is only one - but it is a biggie. The pill completely removes from me any desire for sex. (See, I told you it was a biggie). So the irony is, when on the pill, I can have sex any time, any how and any where - but I JUST DON'T WANT TO!

So to set things straight, I took myself back off the pill about a month ago. Of course, the problem is now that I am again on fire - but single - and therefore perhaps even more frustrated than ever before. And it is a damn shame that I don't like battery operated toys. Hurrumph!