Stage One: Realization That It Is Time For Me To PMS
Wednesday morning I seem to prepare myself for the absolute worst day of my life. However, as the day goes on, I become rather optimistic that maybe this week will be the week I can finally take control of my PMS (yay for optimism). I hit the gym, come home and cook a nice healthy meal, and by about 8pm, a switch in my body flips….
Stage Two: The Emotional Wreck
Its 8pm, I just finished applying for a bunch of jobs. 8:01pm my mom texts me and asks what I am up to. 8:02pm I respond by saying I just applied for a bunch of jobs and am trying to figure out my life (note this is where everything goes downhill). 8:03pm I begin to ball my eyes out because I have no idea what I am going to do with my life. This lasts approximately a half hour until I realize this is silly. I eat 6 oatmeal cookies and pray they go straight to my butt and not my hips. Fast forward a few hours after the guy (for the rest of this article we will call him ‘my guy’) I am seeing leaves around midnight.
After sitting in darkness for all of, you know, maybe five seconds I begin to ball my eyes out. I text him (damn emotions still regretting this hard) and ask him if he can come back for some absolutely ridiculous reason I cannot explain. WHY WOULD I EVER WANT HIM TO SEE ME SO UGLY AND HOW THE HELL WOULD I EVEN EXPLAIN WHY I AM CRYING. Well, if you can’t guess how this goes, he doesn’t come back.
I then have irrational thoughts (ladies I am sure you all know about this) about how I should end things blah blah blah. I finally get a grasp on my idiocrasy and go to bed. Next morning, besides the fact that my eyes are ugly from being swollen (thank god I have glasses because this is the best ‘I need to cover up my swollen eyes’ tool), I am completely fine and no longer sad about whatever the hell I was sad about.
Stage Three: The Everyone Needs To Leave Me The Hell Alone Stage
After my eyes were no longer swollen, the rest of my Thursday was absolutely stellar. I handed in multiple assignments, went to the gym to work off those oatmeal cookies, and finished a bunch of work before curling up in my comfy bed for the early. Friday morning comes along and I am rather excited to finally get to spend time away my guy in the evening. I expected we would get to go see the game, spend a night in the city and just enjoy finally having some alone time together (it is a rare occurrence this happens lately with school and such). Oh but did my expectations ever change.
I’m pissed. People are texting me about meeting up after the game to have drinks… do all this double date stuff. I am absolutely pissed. Everyone needs to leave me the hell alone. I respond, oh it’s up to my guy… this is his birthday present… you know trying to say leave me alone in the nicest way possible. Then I get responses about how people don’t want to intrude, that people are apparently meeting me and my guy already tonight, and I mean honestly I have no real clue what the heck is going on since I haven’t even talked to him since last night.
I’m pissed (again). I go home and make lunch. I’m pissed. I think to myself about how everything is stupid and how I don’t even want to go anymore. I plot a plan on how I can get out of this because I’m pissed (note: anything PMS related makes you rather irrational). Fast forward to the evening and my anger subsides… everything is great again!
Stage Four: I’m Bloated. I Want Popcorn. Do You Have Any Chocolate? Ugh LOOK AT THIS PIMPLE!!!
Here comes the home stretch! Once I manage to finally get off the emotional rollercoaster, all of a sudden cravings hit me like a ton of rocks. Is there any chocolate in this house? Do you have any snacks? I want ice cream (its midnight). But here’s the thing about cravings, as much as you want ALL the junk food, you have to live with bloating, which not only makes you feel like absolute shit, but look like absolutely shit.
I swear sometimes I bloat so bad that I look like I am pregnant (not a good thing too by the way when you are waiting for your period to come). It doesn’t help too that even though I’m on birth control, one random pimple will make an appearance on my face. This isn’t just your average pimple either… it always turns out to be the baddest b***h of all pimples. All I keep thinking is about how I am at the home stretch…
Stage Five: Hello Red Wedding!
Obviously all this PMSing ends on a happy note (just kidding congratulations, you are not pregnant but enjoy Mother Nature’s finest gift and cramps!). At least when my period comes I am no longer an emotional, raging wreck.