Confused? I chose this as my title because it's been at least two months, if not more, since I posted here. And no it's not because I have stopped experiencing PMS, it's just that I couldn't find anything very funny about it. It's also due to my continued daftness about the whole thing. It's not until it's painfully obvious that I realize the rage and incessant stuffing of my face are connected with something other than my generally sparkling personality.
For example, I was lucky enough to ring in 2011 with Mother Nature's greatest gift to us gals there is. Which meant that Christmas was more than its usual free for all food extravaganza. I ingested mass quantities of food. Turkey, turkey and more turkey. And pop. And candy. So much delicious candy. Turkey buns soaked with butter. White buns, no less. Also, I was extremely bitchy between Christmas and New Year's. One day in particular I preferred it if no one spoke to me at all. Doesn't that sound festive?
My annual New Year's Day hangover was blessed with a headache. This is not terribly unusual, I know, but for me it is. Normally I'm a nauseous Norma. Instead I prayed my eyeball would not expose and nothing would crawl out of the actual eye socket. I am blaming this on Mother Nature as well.
She's like the Mother of all Mothers to blame for one's issues. I am currently choosing not to weigh myself but when I do, it's likely going to reflect my Christmas/PMS binge and I will blame her for that too. Not my complete and total lack of self control or sugar addiction. Nope, never. If I wouldn't have been coming up to this blessed event I bet I would've snacked only on fresh vegetables and hummus. And drank only water and ate grilled chicken with half a piece of dry brown toast. Every day. Sweet tooth be damned. I would've quelled it with a delicious Christmas orange. Mother Nature fucked that all up and now I'm afraid to put my jeans on today. They'll be uncomfortable. Although I do believe I have a pair I haven't washed yet that will be a little more forgiving.
Don't judge me in my comfortable dirty jeans. It's not my fault, it's Hers.