The Big H

I was talking just today with a girl friend of mine about HORMONES!!!!  Uh! And men use them as a source of humor, defense, antagonism, control, abuse, degradation, and superiority.  It is infuriating!

It is true, every woman knows it – theoretically every 28 days a woman has her menses (OMG, I hate that word! I think it’s worst than “moist”).  Our uterus sheds blood ‘n gut out our vagina, making it the most disgusting blood ever. I’m not sure why, though.  It is just blood.  Blood coming out of our chopped off finger wouldn’t seem so gross.  Or spewing out of a severed artery like Old Faithful.  Or oozing out of peripheral vein.  But have it come out of the Vajayjay, and it now has a gross factor of 4 billion.

Hormones leave me feeling helpless.  Feeling helpless makes me angry.  Feeling helpless makes me angrier than feeling scared.  Maybe not – if I’m scared, then I’m scared and helpless and one plus one equals two.  Usually.  Anywho, it doesn’t matter.  When my hormones are out of whack (and I couldn’t tell you if it’s too much whack or not enough whack, I just know the whack is out) I respond to external stimuli inappropriately.  People (read: men) do not understand that we (read: women) HAVE NO CONTROL over our responses.  We would like control.  We seek control, yet it eludes our grasp for a couple days every month.  You look at us wrong, we bite your head off.  The children grumble out homework, they are grounded for three years.  The dog won’t go outside, we cry.

Shania Twain said it quite well in her song Up!:

Even something as simple as
Forgettin’ to fill up on gas
There ain’t no explanation why–
things like that can make you cry


When everything is goin’ wrong
Don’t worry, it won’t last for long
Yeah, it’s all gonna come around
Don’t go let it get you down
You gotta keep on holding on

I look at myself and I say, “Self, WTF (except I use all the words) is WRONG with you?  This S* wouldn’t make you mad/sad/cry yesterday?!?”  And there is not a MFD thing I can do about it!

What has set off this blog topic? You got it – a royal s****y crappy MF’n SOB POS and any other cuss word I can find bad day.  Is it really that bad? Well, not if I was in whack. Days like this make’s Alexander’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day seem like a walk in the park.  Get the F* over it guys!  When we are like this, the best thing to do is be very, very quiet, hide the children, bring us chocolate, and leave us alone.  For once, it really isn’t you, it’s us. In all our glorious, fabulous, amazing wonder.  Don’t worry, though; this too shall pass. Until another 28 days.


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