Someday I am going to have a serious talk with the Guy In Charge about this ridiculous procreation plan. This is completely unprofessional. Here I am minding my own business, then WHAM-O! I'm sorry, this week the part of Heidi will be played alternately by the Weepy Mess, and the Overly Irritable Psychotic Bitch. Please call back next week when she has returned to her normal self...who is still pretty irritable, but not as bitchy, only psychotic after midnight, and only weepy at the commercial for cell phones where the mother takes her son to college and she sits on the dorm steps after dropping him off and recounts all these memories of him from his childhood and then he sneaks up behind her and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Oh man, I can't even look at that one.
This means for one out of every four weeks of my life between puberty and menopause that I will not be myself.
Oh, and I had conveniently forgotten that the PMS is worse when I am off of the birth control.
My point is that periods are a gross and barbaric thing to happen to a modern person. Really, they ought to come up with a better way. The psycho mood swings, the boobs hurting, the bloating, the cramps, the diarrhea, and the FREAKING BLEEDING OUT OF AN ORIFICE FOR A PROLONGED PERIOD OF TIME is seriously not a nice thing to happen to someone once, but to happen to someone once a month, is like ri-freakin-diculous.
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