Oh am I ever on a rollarcoaster today. Thought it best to pull back on the brake and let things slide a little slower. This way I'm still riding the ups and downs but allowing myself to have more control ... maybe. There's something to be said for being an absolute trainwreck of emotion, hyper-sensitive and overly analytical while being unable to be passive until these days of bipolar madness subside. Welcome to the hormonally charged time known as premenstrual syndrome. The big P M S. Ugh, gross and way too much information. Sorry.
I have a tendancy to take the unwilling on this unpopular ride with me when I know better but my mouth doesn't get the message to shut-up, it just keeps running it's foolishness while my brain and my common sense are waving their arms and screaming "NOOOO". Sort like what your sober friends do when you have your handy beer goggles on and try to leave the bar with the stangest science speciman there. In reality, someone should just grab a hold of you and simply scream "MISTAKE". Oh, I need that person today except they need to tell me to "SHUT UP"!
At the very least, it's a beautiful quiet day at home. Miss Lily is snuggled up on the couch reading a book, Princess Chloe is drawing pictures and hanging them on the fridge for me, Everett is racing his cars on the coffee table and periodically hugging me. I'd like to take them for a walk but I'm afraid I'd bite somebody. They're safe, the rest of the world isn't. The brain-to-mouth filter is busted and the thoughts don't make much sense. It all hurts. You could tell me you loved me and I'm the greatest thing ever but I'd break down and call you a filthy liar. I even yelled at the TV today but seriously, no woman is that happy on her period and those damn commercials have to stop misrepresenting that fact.
Wow, I made my point about being completely irrational.
This is getting comical to me now. The foolishness of it all. I'm laughing now, give it five minutes and I'll either be cranky and accusing people of hurting me when there was no intention of it or crying over the fact that I have no idea what the hell to make for supper.
Well, it's not really that bad but it's crappy. Two days and then release, back to normal. I feel really friggin bad for all those horrible men I have to work with tomorrow. May as well paint targets on the all and start slinging the mud.
Hey K, got an extra chair I can toss for some brief deliverance of this silliness?? I know you get it!!
I have a tendancy to take the unwilling on this unpopular ride with me when I know better but my mouth doesn't get the message to shut-up, it just keeps running it's foolishness while my brain and my common sense are waving their arms and screaming "NOOOO". Sort like what your sober friends do when you have your handy beer goggles on and try to leave the bar with the stangest science speciman there. In reality, someone should just grab a hold of you and simply scream "MISTAKE". Oh, I need that person today except they need to tell me to "SHUT UP"!
At the very least, it's a beautiful quiet day at home. Miss Lily is snuggled up on the couch reading a book, Princess Chloe is drawing pictures and hanging them on the fridge for me, Everett is racing his cars on the coffee table and periodically hugging me. I'd like to take them for a walk but I'm afraid I'd bite somebody. They're safe, the rest of the world isn't. The brain-to-mouth filter is busted and the thoughts don't make much sense. It all hurts. You could tell me you loved me and I'm the greatest thing ever but I'd break down and call you a filthy liar. I even yelled at the TV today but seriously, no woman is that happy on her period and those damn commercials have to stop misrepresenting that fact.
Wow, I made my point about being completely irrational.
This is getting comical to me now. The foolishness of it all. I'm laughing now, give it five minutes and I'll either be cranky and accusing people of hurting me when there was no intention of it or crying over the fact that I have no idea what the hell to make for supper.
Well, it's not really that bad but it's crappy. Two days and then release, back to normal. I feel really friggin bad for all those horrible men I have to work with tomorrow. May as well paint targets on the all and start slinging the mud.
Hey K, got an extra chair I can toss for some brief deliverance of this silliness?? I know you get it!!
