I take the pill in a way that allows me to skip my period. But every so often my body just decides to spot until I let it happen, so I am, and now I’m about to cry at 10 a.m., and OH RIGHT, this is why I don’t DO THIS SHIT.
I mean, I GUESS these items could somehow be related…if I really thought hard about it…
If my pizza place had any sense, they would sell my dinner tonight as some kind of PMS Special. Like a McDonalds combo — you could just ask for the PMS #5 and it’d be nachos and a chocolate milkshake. Or there could be a column system: one salty and one sweet, with an optional drizzle of our house-blended mansplainer tear reduction.
Yeah, this should definitely be a thing.
I appreciate having friends who know me well enough to be like, “Hey, honnney? You OK? ‘Cause…you got a little bitch on your face. You need some Midol? Maybe a cookie? You’re not normally THIS cranky.”
This week has been a goddamn eternity.
I’m signed up for a heated high-intensity interval training class this morning, but I let a different doctor tell me I “have to” have a period once in a while, so that’s also happening, and now I’m far more interested in lying on the floor and actually dying.
Aaand this is why the FIRST doctor told me to take the pill so I don’t menstruate. You don’t have to. I KNOW you don’t have to. I don’t know why I let her tell me otherwise, but I am never doing this bullshit again if I can help it.
Oh, cool, I knew something didn’t feel right — I’ve been a complete ass about taking my birth control and now my body’s like, “We menstruate, yeah? Wheeee, we menstruate!”
No, really. Being a woman is magical. 🙄