In which it’s way better this way, but still not ideal.
I think my ability to perceive the glass as half full is actually a character flaw.
I think this because I can slog through a fairly unacceptable life and yet still be convinced that I’m happy, even when I’m patently not. I learned this about myself when I was married: I was terribly unhappy for years without realizing it. Even developed a panic disorder, that’s how deep in denial I was about not getting my needs met…
But that’s a whole other post. I’m probably not, in point of actual fact, living a life that is unacceptable: it’s probably just PMS.
I love not bleeding for 29 days out of every 30. It’s awesome. It’s fantastic. I’m frantic with joy that I no longer have to fear my life is leaking out of my uterus. (Rollerball ablation has been very, very good to me.) But. I still get evil, wicked PMS and I hate it. Bloating is evil! No one should have her ankle bones disappear every month! Feeling despondent, tired, and quasi-depressed for a third of every month is just plain sucky.
I remember when I was young and bullet-proof I thought women who complained of PMS were just complaining for attention. Now I realize the truth: hormones are hell.
Maybe I’ll luck out and be born male next time. While males may have shorter life spans, at least their reproductive processes are eleventy-hundred times less complicated!
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Eleventy-hundred? More than that. We’re not clever enough for complication. It’s a simple process for us. I know you’re a nerd so here’s the pseudo code for our process to make it look way more complicated than it is….
Function LookAtChicks()
If "Cute"=True then
Call Shag() //option parameters, see Shag code....
else
Call LookAtChicks()
endif
End Function
I’d override this function with the name of “LiveLife” too….
Too easy 😉
ROFL! *ahem* Yeah. Menz? Are simple, bless ’em. 😉 -m
One of my most recent PMS symptoms is a hair-trigger gag reflex. I went through about six straight months of swearing I was pregnant and having morning sickness only to realize it was that ol’ bitch PMS coming to get me.
Love that “code”.
HOLY SHIT. That sucks ass, dear, and not in the fun way. Jesus. I’ll stick to the bloating, it’s better than feeling pukey… I guess. -m
Perhaps it makes you ‘feel’ better but the fact is this blog of yours is OURS and it is now reeling from lack of content. What are you going to do now for drama? Huh? Did you even think of us for one second before the procedure or before you left Iowa? No, you didn’t. Selfish.
How bout getting into the midnight bar\band\music scene? Or join the local Little Theater. Or take a 22 yo lover – female.
We need content, and it’s your job to bring it to us. YES, I say loudly, WHAT ABOUT US!!!
You are so right. And I know it. My content has utterly tanked since I drove across the country in an exploding vehicle and then had my uterus scraped out! It’s this working full-time bullshit. Leaves me no time to be thoughtful. Or to get in trouble. Ugh. -m
maybe it will make metapause easier. maybe you get no HOT flashes. or maybe not. just a thought. ya and I don’t know how to spell metapause. there is no spell check on the comment thing.
It’s spelled ‘menopause.’ And I hope to ghod I don’t get hot flashes! I’ve already been through enough shit! GAH! -m
I like how your dad told you to get a girlfriend.
I know, he’s a nasty person. 😉 -m
try acupuncture…. im tellin ya…. ya need to chill out that liver energy…. pms will quiet down….
Okay, I’ll look around. -m