PMS: a day in the life

I hate when I get like this. Especially that I feel like I have absolutely no motherfucking control over it. My body is so uncomfortable that it just sends my irritability rating through the roof. And any and everyone around me has to suffer then.

It's ridiculous and it's childish, but again, I feel like I can't control it.

I could, actually. I could take some drugs or drink till I pass out or something. Then I'll just sleep it all away but there's too much fucking crap that needs to get done: laundry, dishes, meals, laundry, laundry, "I hungry!", "I wan' milk!", "Mama?"...

I just want to fucking wither away into a corner with something tightly wrapped around my midsection to cease the cramping. I want to sleep eat cry. I want to be left alone. I don't want to hear any fucking thing- no goddamn dogs barking, cats whining, husband snoring, child laughing.

I feel like I'm on edge to doing something really awful.

When I get like this, I envision bad things happening. I think I can understand how women, in particular, do horrendous, god forsaken things to their loved ones. It MUST happen when they're PMSing. If they're not PMSing, then I can't understand.

I'm so fucking tired, so fucking irritable, so fucking angry agitated annoyed hungry sad.

I just want to fucking bleed already.

I just want to fucking bleed so heavily that I bleed through a super plus tampon and onto a pad that I have to wear at all times when I get my period lately.


It's been 30 years since I got my first fucking period and I still cannot control my... mood before I get it.

It's a cruel fucking thing to happen and it's a wonder how there aren't any more women serving murder sentences as a result.

It's these thoughts on these days that make me feel like I'm surely losing my grip on sanity.

Yeah, her smile warms me up and soothes me a bit, but... not enough. Not anymore. Not today.

Because my back hurts so fucking bad and the cramping is making me nauseous despite my hankering for chocolate peanut butter ice cream. In a waffle cone. OMG no. A shake. A thick milk shake. And a bag of potato chips.

What is it going to be like when she starts getting her period, too?

My poor husband.

Fuck him. He's on the couch snoring like I'm not in this mood, like I'm not on the verge of losing my fucking mind. The dryer is about to buzz for the fourth time today and guess who gets to go fold all the shit and put it away? Yeah, the one who's on the verge of stuffing someone into it.

Maybe I should just get out of here for a few minutes.

Maybe I should just go and get that milkshake and potato chips and drugs and alcohol.

I think I need some fucking pads and tampons anyway.

Motherfucking PMS.

(NOTE: this was written yesterday {Sunday} but I didn't hit Publish for some reason. having seen that it wasn't Published, i wasn't going to actually Publish it, but i'm still in a pisser of a mood and have no desire to Publish much else so at least now you know why. not that you care. ALSO: nobody was harmed in the making of this post. FINALLY: i never did get my chocolate peanut butter shake fix, but i did devour a greasy cheeseburger and fries and half a piece of the world's greatest key lime pie before sitting on the toilet for about an hour and shitting like i haven't shat since who knows when... glad you stopped by?? COME AGAIN! AND NEXT TIME BRING MY SHAKE AND CHIPS!)