I fear I am alarmingly fat. Side on I could definitely pass for being six months pregnant. With quads. As for my notorious double chin. It's becoming triple. I seem to remember life on a parallel universe where I could devour hot chips and lasagne while size 8 hot pants still fit. And as many chocolates as a chocoholic likes. Which is quite a lot, actually. After all we all know the old line: The answer is chocolate. And I don't give a damn what the question is. Boom Boom.
Of course I am presently living in the wonderful world of PMS. Nothing is guaranteed to turn me into a sobbing wreck more than these feral hormones from hell. I will sob at the sight of a Huggies commercial. I will sob when pants that fit me yesterday, suddenly decide not to zip up today.
Slamming doors and glaring at anyone who has the misfortune to glance in your direction. Micky Blue Eyes innocently looks at me and enquires "New top, is it?" I am certain that what he really meant was "Looking a bit pudgy aren't we?" He becomes the unfortunate recipient of the 'death stare' and wisely retreats behind a newspaper without waiting for a reply. I will snap at my boys for the slightest thing then begin wailing seconds later convinced I'm The Worst Mother In The World Ever for behaving like such a monumental bitch.
Of course, it's comforting to know that all of this will eventually subside only to be replaced by unbearable cramps, the equivalent of 500 knives being stabbed into your lower pelvic area and twisted around torturously for several days, after which you have the luxury of being allowed to be normal again for a couple of weeks (assuming you are one of the lucky ones who has clock work cycles, most of us don't) before - YOU START IT ALL OVER AGAIN!!!
Then, if all of that isn't bad enough, the only way out of this cycle of hellish hormones is to get older and then experience the wonderful world of even more hellish hormones called - menopause. This is a prospect that sounds about as thrilling as being forced to attend a One Direction concert with a bunch of those idiotic, screaming teenage girls, with their hormones raging. GAH! You see what hormones are responsible for??!!
Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.
What causes you to have a good old sooky la la sobbing session?