“I just have a lot of feelings…”

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.

Definitely not connecting these dots…

I mean, I GUESS these items could somehow be related…if I really thought hard about it…

PMS: The Mother(fucker) of Invention

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.

It’s possible I just hate joy.

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.

No, thanks, I have to go to the edge of my village.

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.

Weight for it…

Obviously I’d be a couple weeks late on a New Year’s resolution, but…*sigh* I’m a little tired of being fat. 

So I joined a 60-day challenge group thing at my gym, and they weighed me, and…*sigh* Yeah.

So…*sigh* Fine. FINE!

I’m eating fruit, and you know what? Fuck fruit.

Honestly, I don’t mind fruit, but my brain is being a COMPLETE asshole about everything I’m doing. So fuck fruit. And fuck exercise, which I did last night, and it was a bunch of goddamn horseshit — all red-faced and sweaty, no orgasm to show for it. Just…WHY.

Also, fuck my Fitbit for being a judgy asshole. I’ll walk when I WANT to, you dick!

(I also have PMS, in case that wasn’t clear…)

“Everything hurts and I’m dying.”

Last time my body was being weird with my menstrual cycle, my doctor told me to stop taking my birth control pill, let my body menstruate for a few days, and then go back to taking it as prescribed so it stops. That was maybe a year ago, and it worked. Cool.

 

Now my body is being weird again, so I did the same thing, and…Jesus Christ, now I remember why they prescribed the pill to make it stop. I really did not miss having a period.

 

Between this and the ballsack-y humidity in Philly, I MAY actually be dying. Every part of me feels puffy, and like it weighs 100 pounds. Everyone and everything is SO much more annoying. Getting out of bed this week has been like a goddamn Ironman. And there is just NOT. ENOUGH. SALT.

 

If I can’t make as much money as a man, can I least get a few days off for THIS horseshit?

 

Fuck you, Nature, seriously.

My body is a traitorous beast.

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. 🙄

Nope.

Ahem…

*taps mic*

Fuuuuuck youuuuu.

I hate when other people are funnier than me.