Hey Ladies, can I get an AMEN?
Warning: if you are a dude, chances are you probably won't enjoy this post. Deal with it.
So, ladies...as if it wasn't bad enough that we are forced to suffer through blood, spine-curling cramps, and the sudden influx of holy-cow-she's-gone-bat-sh*t-crazy hormones; must this time of month also torture us with insomnia, tender breasts (because that makes sense), acne, and...wait for it...WEIGHT GAIN?
All I want to do is eat and sleep, and yet the more I try to take care of want #1, the worse I feel about myself (thanks to the aforementioned crazy-making hormones and my body's sudden uncanny ability to retain water), and the harder I try to accomplish want #2, it eludes me.
Trust me, sleep-deprivation does not aid in reducing the crazy-factor, here, folks.
I'm beginning to understand why in Psalms 139:14 it says we are fearfully and wonderfully made, because let me tell you: ain't nothin' scarier than a PMSing, sleep-deprived, hungry woman.
If only there were ways to avoid this regular dose of anguish. You know, other than:
1) Pumping our bodies full of hormones in an attempt to circumvent nature's monthly persecution against females
2) Allowing the darn egg to fertilize and then subjecting ourselves to the next 40 weeks of alternating nausea, heartburn, constipation, and stretch marks...with a nice little cherry of labor pains on top
3) Surgically removing our uteruses (uteri?) (also, it should be noted that this option has the lovely additional impact of thereby rendering us physically incapable of bearing children)
Or I suppose there's always menopause. Because that sounds like a real blast.
(In case you can't tell, I am currently in the midst of that glorious time once a month whereupon Satan temporarily invades my uterus.)
And can someone please explain to me why this is considered such a "taboo" subject anyways? Yea, I get that it's pretty gross and unpleasant to talk about, but as any post-pubescent female can attest, it's about a scrillion times grosser and more unpleasant to endure. Every. Single. Month.
Why should we be forced to suffer in silence just because it might make you a teensy bit uncomfortable to hear about it?
CAN I GET AN AMEN?
P.S. Dad, if any ounce of this ends up in the Sunday e-mail, so help me God, I will - do I even need to finish this sentence?
***update: Just found this little gem on Pinterest, and felt it should probably be included in my rant:
***update (again): couldn't help myself:
So, ladies...as if it wasn't bad enough that we are forced to suffer through blood, spine-curling cramps, and the sudden influx of holy-cow-she's-gone-bat-sh*t-crazy hormones; must this time of month also torture us with insomnia, tender breasts (because that makes sense), acne, and...wait for it...WEIGHT GAIN?
All I want to do is eat and sleep, and yet the more I try to take care of want #1, the worse I feel about myself (thanks to the aforementioned crazy-making hormones and my body's sudden uncanny ability to retain water), and the harder I try to accomplish want #2, it eludes me.
Trust me, sleep-deprivation does not aid in reducing the crazy-factor, here, folks.
I'm beginning to understand why in Psalms 139:14 it says we are fearfully and wonderfully made, because let me tell you: ain't nothin' scarier than a PMSing, sleep-deprived, hungry woman.
If only there were ways to avoid this regular dose of anguish. You know, other than:
1) Pumping our bodies full of hormones in an attempt to circumvent nature's monthly persecution against females
2) Allowing the darn egg to fertilize and then subjecting ourselves to the next 40 weeks of alternating nausea, heartburn, constipation, and stretch marks...with a nice little cherry of labor pains on top
3) Surgically removing our uteruses (uteri?) (also, it should be noted that this option has the lovely additional impact of thereby rendering us physically incapable of bearing children)
Or I suppose there's always menopause. Because that sounds like a real blast.
(In case you can't tell, I am currently in the midst of that glorious time once a month whereupon Satan temporarily invades my uterus.)
And can someone please explain to me why this is considered such a "taboo" subject anyways? Yea, I get that it's pretty gross and unpleasant to talk about, but as any post-pubescent female can attest, it's about a scrillion times grosser and more unpleasant to endure. Every. Single. Month.
Why should we be forced to suffer in silence just because it might make you a teensy bit uncomfortable to hear about it?
CAN I GET AN AMEN?
P.S. Dad, if any ounce of this ends up in the Sunday e-mail, so help me God, I will - do I even need to finish this sentence?
***update: Just found this little gem on Pinterest, and felt it should probably be included in my rant:
Comments
1) Be mean to other people
2) Make any important decisions
3) Do anything rash
4) Step on the scale
5) Watch sappy movies
I made this commitment when I was 14 and observed that both my mother and sister used their periods as an opportunity to go crazy.