It's my bday on Sunday. I got my period yesterday after 41 days of not having it, because I'm peri-menopausal and this shit is now random. I feel absolutely fantastic and super fucked up with a headache, nausea, and mood swingy af. But, it's okay because it has that feeling of being slammed down in a "you are now instantly grounded" Oprah voice kinda way. Welcome back to, Earth!
My inner asshole is FREE and expressive, which is kinda nice. I'm enjoying that. It happens so rarely. It's a little scary though, I think I can be horribly scary as an asshole.
I took today off work. I bought some hideous and cool, unflattering sweat pants, that fit everywhere accept for being 5 sizes too small around the waist (thanks Urban Planet), and am loving being home in them. Best bday gift ever (except, of course, for the loosing of circulation around my waist. Self inflicted pain seems fitting though).
I'm going to clean my house, finally put all my clothes away, and then drive up island to hang with my one friend and my kids. Fingers crossed my expectations aren't too high and I don't end up by myself on Friday night in a hostel, that would be weird.
I've got to clean up my manifesting - open all my doors and windows for a swell of great energy this weekend. I'm gearing up for a - regardless of any other thing that may or may not happen - day of celebrated aloneness wherein I rely on the simple joy of Bridget Jones 1&2, pizza & coke (maybe sushi) , and Purdy's chocolate (or Häagen-Dazs vanilla almond) to ring in my 47th year on Sunday.
47 fucking years. Haha. I'm reaching those age bands where, as a young punk, when I heard someone died at this age I was like, "we'll they lived a long life."
Hahahahah.
Oh, and, yeah, the Greek and I are still a thing. Maybe that will change now that he's met my PMS monster.
I have a lot of good feelings about him and I, but I'm in no condition to speak of them. Because, fuck him. Right? For no apparent reason, fuck him. I'm kidding, of course. ? No, really I am. He just can't win anything with me right now. I will either:
- cry because he's going to leave me because I'm crazy for the next 4 days
- look at him with absolute disdain because he's not funny
- accuse him of "looking at me like that."
- need him to pet me non stop
- get mad at him for patronizing me
or all of these in a span of 10 minutes, so it's probably better he stays far away.
Oh great, I just messaged him (with the intention of being nice and checking in) on the one app where I can see if he's a) read my message and b) read it and is not responding.... I could have just texted him and never known the difference.
shit. pray for him.
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