As I sit here typing this, I am on the couch in sweatpants with dripping wet hair, eating a low-fat pop tart (I know these are filled with chemicals), and watching the weatherman tell me that we are going to miss 98% of the winter storm that is going to blast New England.
SERIOUSLY? So we will get 2% of the storm? They actually sounded excited too.
This weather news would tick me off normally any day… but I am extra ticked today because I am pms-ing. I hate that word – pms – but what else do you call it? I especially hate when a guy asks you if you are “pms-ing.” I REALLY hate when a guy asks you if you are “on your period.” You can’t even be “on” that… it’s a natural thing… like acne… it just happens. You don’t sit on a big period.
Why can’t they just ask, “Honey, are your hormones going crazy? What can I do to help?”
I haven’t felt like this in 4 months… because I take a magical pill that makes me not have my ‘friend’ or anything associated with it. It was kind of awesome while it lasted… I mean, I only took about 7 pregnancy tests fearing that the pill hadn’t done its job.
Now I am miserable… longing for the fear of a baby… because I am bloated, cranky, depressed, emotional, keeled over with cramps, and sick to my stomach. I am NOT happy.
I am sad for no reason.
Maybe if it was going to snow I’d be a less scary bear…
For now, I will keep looking at this picture from my friend Jess’s wedding this past November to cheer me up….or to numb the evil pms.