Warning! Warning Will Robinson!

Is there a point to this blog? No.  You’ve been forewarned. 

While walking the track at my son’s Peewee Football camp with my friend, she asked me how my day was and in the course of 30 minutes, I did nothing but regurgitate bitterness.  On my drive home I realized that I am one bitchy, moody, irritable cat who is in dire need of some rehab. For some reason, this new job is really kicking my ass, which is leading to my lack of workouts, which is causing me to be more susceptible to homicidal tendencies when Mother Nature decides to visit.  My stress level is at maximum occupancy right now and if I don’t get a handle on the whistling kettle that is going off in my head, I’m liable to do some real damage to the next heifer that shoves me out of a lane at Wal-Mart. 

Who decided that it would be an ideal thing for women to have to give up a week, every month of their life and dedicate it to Midol, chocolate and psycho wards?  I think every box of Tampax should come with emergency straight jackets so we don’t cause injury to others during a fit of rage.  Or is it just me?  I haven’t quite figured out as well, why men (some, not all) think it’s appropriate to make such comments as “Wow, someone is PMS’ing” or “Someone’s on the rag”.  No, Mr. F@ck Tard, it’s called a menstrual cycle and your mouth shouldn’t write checks your body can’t cash.  Just saying…. And since when are woman not allowed to be cranky?  Do we have to be menstruating in order to have a moment?  Can’t we just be in a bad mood?  Is that not allowed anymore? 

I completely understand now why I’ve been so damn tired and lethargic. (What gave it away right?)  I chalked it up to my new job and my new found awareness of how draining stupid people are; but it wasn’t that at all!  See I should be used to the evil that invades my personal space (once a month), after all I have dealt with it for many years.  But for some reason I blank out and for half of the month my mind goes into lock-down mode and “Phoebe the Airhead” comes out to play –yes, I’m talking about Aunt Flo.  Mood Swings, bloating, absent mindedness, irritability, lower back pain, cramps, sore gingersnaps, headaches, fatigue, and in my case, green foam spewing out of the mouth, mild turrets syndrome and the overall inability to function on all levels.

I didn’t just pick up my laptop and decide to bitch about female issues, this all stems from re-knobs that I deal with daily as well as from the cashier at Walgreens, who apparently found amusement in my tampax, chocolate and Midol purchase.  But is he judged when he buys beer, condoms and hemorrhoid cream?  Probably not!  In addition to my frustration, this issue is becoming detrimental to my workout progress.  I’m struggling – severely – with finding motivation when I feel like the “State-Puff-Marshmallow Man”.

I think I need some wall to wall therapy.