The prospect of going to my GP surgery to change pills is so exhilarating, especially in contrast to going in to work tomorrow. How cheap the world’s pleasures have become. The subconscious thought that I can tame and master my female body with a man-made hormonal strategy is irresistible. The one thing that I can control at present. When my world is falling apart and crumbling like a faulty batch of biscuits, I look to my womb to play my game. Play my game, bitch. Play that game, ’cause they won’t, he won’t, heart won’t, destiny, desire…won’t.