Showing posts with label PMS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PMS. Show all posts

Monday, 23 March 2015

Micro Confessions Of A Cry Baby

Welcome to another glorious Monday, the most dreaded day of the week! I have a few little things to get off my chest. The first one is this:

I hate everyone and everything in the whole World EVER. Thank you, PMS. No, FUCK you, PMS! When I say everyone, I mean everyone. Yes, even myself. ESPECIALLY myself!

Why? Because I'm a big cry baby sook who's too scared to go to the dentist. On Thursday, one of my bottom teeth broke. I have to go and have it fixed this morning. I'm dreading it. As you are reading this I'm probably trapped in that descending chair, the ominous sound of the drill reverberating through my skull. SAVE ME!

Or slap me in the face and tell me to get on with it like a grown up!

I just arrived home from wandering around the shops with Mr 11 for a few hours. While there, I spotted Michelle Bridges signing books. I felt like punching her, but have you seen the biceps on that woman? Look, I have nothing against Michelle Bridges, really. I even have one of her books and a couple of her DVDs. I just feel like punching everyone lately.

On Monday week Mickey Blue Eyes has to have another knee operation. For those of you who don't know, he injured his knee playing soccer some months ago. Surgery was required to place some sort of wire inside to get it moving again. Then came months of physiotherapy.  Now he has to have the wire taken back out. Fun times.

Additionally, school holidays commence in this same week. So I'll have Mick hobbling around and the kids home from school. AWESOME. Yes, I'm a horrific bitch from PMS Hell at the moment. Deal with it.

I'm also suffering from THIS:

Image from

In fact, this seems to be the story of my life. Can you hear the weepy violin music?

Don't you just hate people who whinge and complain about stuff in their life but never seem to do anything about it? Seriously. I mean, why haven't I just COME OUT OF MY SHELL by now?

I just keep on whinging and whining about wanting alone time but I haven't actually plotted to murder my family as yet. What am I like?

WHAT a whinger. How hard could it be? I could just poison them or something. Surprisingly, my cooking has failed to do so thus far. I mean, it's the quiet ones you've gotta watch, right?

I've never quite understood that expression. Watch doing what exactly? Reading a book? Scrolling through Facebook. Sure, watch me if you want, but it won't be very interesting. Unlike this blog, which is RIVETING. Plus, it might a little creepy. Watching quiet people, that is. We're just being our silent little selves, minding our own business, not saying a word; while you're rudely staring. Who's the weird one now?? Just saying.

Interestingly, when I Googled Little Miss Quiet I discovered that she doesn't exist. There is only a MR Quiet. Meanwhile, there is a Little Miss Chatterbox, Little Miss Sunshine, Little Miss Fun and a Little Miss Giggles.Where is Little Miss Premenstrual And Moody?

A funny thing happened yesterday when I was at my Tafe course. I realised I was stuck to the chair. It transpired that I had chewing gum stuck on my pants. Thankfully it was the same colour as my pants. You have to be grateful for the little things.

I'm just trying to think of as much crap as possible to distract myself from thinking about my visit to the dentist. It sort of works a bit.

My mind will go:

Butterflies. Rainbows. DENTIST!

Cake. Carpenters. DENTIST!

Puppies. Chocolate. DENTIST!

Books. Unicorns. DENTIST!



That's the sound of my Anxiety Monsters laughing their evil, mocking laugh at me.

The stupid thing is, I was never scared of the dentist when I was younger. I had several teeth yanked out before I had braces. I had it done awake in the chair without sedation. What happened to that girl? Why I am a such a head case in middle age? Furthermore, why am boring you with my whining? Because I can, I presume. So ner.

I've decided that I'm definitely coming back as a man. I'm over all the moods and pain. I simply can't wait for the cluster fuck that will be menopause. Coming soon to a psychotic bitch near you.

In other news, I spent the afternoon going over Mr 13's homework and assessments with him earlier. Amongst all his paperwork he had a sheet listing medieval crimes and punishment. Punishments included: The Rack,Water Torture, Rat Torture, Foot Roasting and Burning at the Stake.

These seemed like quite reasonable punishments to me in my pleasantly premenstrual state.

Oh well, that's my cheery little existence at the moment. Upon reflection I'm thinking that I have such an intense dental phobia that I'm considering exposure therapy instead of just turning up for the appointment. But they might think that I'm some crazy person who likes lurking around the dentist waiting rooms while attempting to get used to the idea and the smell and the noise...... Gulps. Thoughts? Suggestions?

Don't you just love my rambling posts? What else can I confess?

Oh, I've lost around 8 kilos so far on Weight Witches.Which isn't much really, considering I've been going for several months. However, I decided at the beginning that I'm happy with losing a small amount of weight and keeping it off long term, rather than a huge amount of weight which I just end up putting back on, plus extra. Because, let's face it, I'll never be a skinny bitch. I love cake too much.

And with that, I can't think of a suitable ending to this clunky post, so I'll just back out of blogger awkwardly the same way I back out of rooms awkwardly. I'm awkward as fuck in person, so I may as well be authentic online as well. Cheers.

Linking up for I Must Confess.

How is Monday treating you?

PS: After getting all worked up in anticipation for my visit to the dentist they have rescheduled my appointment for Wednesday. I'm not sure if this is a reprieve or a further 48 hours of fretting. Sigh.

Friday, 21 June 2013

Rambling Rants

Since I already banged on about mindfulness last week and how absolutely brilliant and fabulous I am with the technique, I figured I would have nothing to rant about this week for The Lounge. Then, I found myself in a perfectly charming mood for most of the week. I felt like punching anyone who had the misfortune to glance sideways at me. Nice. This was when I wasn't feeling all bloated, blah and sooky sooky la la. Thank you, PM Fucking S. I hate you.

These mood swings persisted for most of the week, until the other day when I was innocently sitting down minding my business, and BAM! It felt like I’d been stabbed. Nope, just period pain. Oh, the joys of being a woman.

Which brings me to another joy of being female. Bra's. I am 42 and I’ve never found a comfortable one yet. I’m beginning to think that using the word bra and comfortable in the same sentence is an oxymoron.

While I am here whinging away, I may as well whine about the weather. It’s COLD. I have to put up with freezing my tits off for at least another 2 months before I can begin whinging that it’s TOO HOT!! Hmph. 

What else can I whinge and rant about? Oh yeah, yesterday I had Mr 9’s Parent/Teacher interview. I don’t know what it is about these things that make me feel like I’m a little girl at school again, being chastised by the teacher for reading my  Enid Blyton book under the desk when I was supposed to be working. Not that I ever did that. Nope. No way. Ahem.

The teacher mentioned that Mr 9 often doesn’t complete his homework. Yeah, there’s a reason for that. He sometimes needs my help and I DON’T UNDERSTAND IT. Year 3 Homework. THE SHAME.

Why does homework have to be so freaking complicated? And why is there so quite so much of it? I sent my kids to school instead of home schooling them so I didn't have to deal with this stuff. In fact, I can’t even believe there are people who would seriously consider that as an option. I mean, of course I admire it think it’s sheer insanity, but I couldn’t do it myself.

What's that? I'm a lazy arsed bogan? Well, duh. EXACTLY. I need the freaking teachers to do all that shit for me. It's not like my boys will learn much from me other than Advanced Cake Eating Skills. I've got that covered. 
Of course, being such a lazy arsed bogan, I left it until the last minute to come up with this post (so far, it's been worth the wait, right?) then Thursday rolled around and it was time for The Lounge link up and I had nothing prepared, when I woke up feeling all dizzy and nauseous without even having had a single drink the nigh t before! What is with that? 
But then, this morning, I had the house to myself, as Micky Blue Eyes had taken the car to be checked for rego and Mr 4 was at my parents house. After dutifully trudging up to the school with Mr 11 and 9, I then came home, happily made myself a coffee and sat down, in glorious silence, thinking I would be able to do some blog posts in peace. Wrong.
The computer DID NOT WORK. I spent hours fucking around unplugging and re-booting it, swearing at it and feeling like throwing it. Now it appears to be working, but who knows how long that will last.


Another thing which had me peeved this week, was when I decided to dye my hair. I  bought one of those new foamy ones. It was super easy to apply. The only problem was, it has a very strong perfume, so naturally, because I am super sensitive to such things, by the time I went to bed later that night I had a pounding headache. Which pisses me off, because it probably means I can’t use it again and it was  so much easier than the other messy, drippy dyes and having to cling wrap my head. Hmph. DOUBLE HMPH, EVEN.
I know. That doesn't make sense, but when do I ever make sense? Plus, I used the word 'rambling' in the title, so that should have been a give away that this post would be a heap of rambling CRAP. You knew you what you were getting yourself into right there, okay? So, I'm not going to apologise for the few minutes of your life you'll never get back after reading this drivel. Oh, alright. SORRY. Better luck next time. I might come up with something readable. Not promising anything, however.
Linking with The Lounge which is being hosted by Robomum.

What has you ranting and raving this week?

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Hormones From Hell

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.

I will be found weeping tears of utter desolation, unable to contain my heartfelt and utterly sincere despair over - absolutely nothing. To only minutes later, feeling palpable rage, rancid and real, coursing through my veins.

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.

You will find me walking around feeling like a bi-polar, bloated balloon, with breasts swollen to Dolly Parton like proportions, so tender to the touch that a mammogram would seem like fun in comparison to your partner even attempting to come near them in a futile attempt to have sex. SEX?!!!  You, must be joking, I hear all you ladies shriek along with me, just give me a jumbo size block of chocolate and GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!!!

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?