Woke up with the intention to exercise. Ended up feeling like I needed to be exorcised.
I am a great, big bag of crazy with extra "fuck are you looking at?! Go away!! I love you! Bring me food or I will kill again!! HUG MEEEE!" today.
Some of my fellow lady babes may recognise this colourful combination of emotions as PMT, PMS...or, as it is scientifically recognised, Pre Menstrual Shut-The-Fuck-Up-And-Don't-Look-Me-Directly-In-The-Eye.
I get it bad. Most women can experience symptoms of this fluctuation in hormones and appear to be carrying on as normal, but I swear I'm getting worse with age. I'm fine for a few months, and then out of nowhere, I go full Exorcist. I should have realised that it had crept up on me this month the other day in work when I binned an important order I had taken, and then proceeded to fling coffee all over the bits of paper with the super important bank details on.
And last night, when I went to the gym and stormed home after ten minutes on the treadmill because I was BORED!!! and didn't want to DO this SHIT anymore!!!
Anyway, it sunk in that the hormone fairy had paid me a visit today after my failed attempt at exercising earlier. I woke up in a fab mood, slung on my running kit that makes me look like one of those pink and black liquorice all-sorts, and drove (I know, I know. Shut it,smarty pants!) a few miles to the one place where I fancied a quick jog - the nice, flat, running track down the road. I arrived there to see that a football match was about to start. Fine, I thought, I can run around them.
Then a couple of man-children in football kit made some lewd, pervy gestures at my car. A storm cloud passed over my eyes, and I screeched round full circle and went the fuck home, swearing loudly to no one about football twats ruining my day.
Now home, I paced the house, frantic because it's a mess, and I didn't want to clean, because it's BORING! And then I wanted to leave the house, but didn't know where to go. Then I started cleaning. Then I stopped. Then I wanted to cry. Then I danced around the house a bit. Then I smacked my head on the staircase, which made me want to beat the staircase up.
Then I had some soup.
Then I was fine.
I know I'm not doing much for the stereotype of "bitches be crazy", so I'd like to add that despite the possessed qualities I've displayed today, I know for a fact that I can snap out of it and still make decisions and get by if I need to. Life doesn't stop when I feel like this. It's just a Saturday, I've been left to my own devices... And apparently my own devices would like to eat, cry on, shout at and screw everything around them today.
I feel like a circus in a wig today.
*gives you the eye whilst cramming choccie biccy into face*