PMS Is Kicking My Ass.

Not a little bit, either. This month, she is an avenging harpy, pelting me with crying fits, uncontrollable cravings for Chinese food, and dark, niggling doubts about my chosen path, my future, and my relationships. I can’t think straight.

Here is a pretty much verbatim report from inside my brain: Why are there so many crazy people today? I wonder if there’s any truth about the moon controlling people. Maybe it’s a full moon. It’s something. Bobdog dropped the brick and had a meltdown. I want sweet and sour pork. Bad. It makes me feel sick. But I want it. E better stay safe. What am I going to do for debate class? Maybe we can have a field trip downtown and then we can debate about what to do about the homeless problem. Yeah, right. Kid has potential, I wish his mom was less of a tightass. Christ, I need a haircut. I look like a sheep is sitting on my head. Chow mein would be good. I wonder if I should do it myself. Probably not, though. I have curly hair but that could get scary. Can I afford a haircut? Oh, god, what a cute puppy! I could go to an eight dollar place but they would kill my hair, they always do. Maybe I could do that olive oil thing, that seemed to work for a day or so. I bet if I got some vegetasbles, Chinese food would be good. I mean, vegetables have vitamins. Hey, there’s a new Hellboy move! See? I’m my own little gerbil wheel thingie.

In addition, Rachel has loaned me a Very Precious Book, a reviewer’s copy of the new book by my favourite author on the planet. This book keeps making me cry, because the author has Alzheimer’s and all I can think is, what if this is the last time I’ll ever read anything new by him?” I think I’m going to have to wait until my period starts. I’m dripping tears on the pages.

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