There oughtta be a law.
I am too old to be having this monthly. . . . thing.
I figured it out. Compensating for pregnancy and nursing when it wasn't happening, I have experienced this cycle approximately 450 times. I don't know about you, but that is just about enough for one person to deal with. I quit. I resign. I want my gold watch.
Yesterday, I popped Advil like M&M's. Shoot, they even LOOK like M&M's.
I got up four [or was it five?] times in the night. I'm exhausted. And I am going to work at 2 o'clock this afternoon and will get home at 11:30 tonight. Oh joy.
I have a doctor's appointment this coming Monday. I wonder what the magic words are to get them to remove the Fibertroll infested organ that resides in my innards?
Maybe if I threaten to come over to HER house every time a have an uncomfortable symptom of ANY kind. I could set up camp in her front yard. Picket. And otherwise make myself annoying.
Though I must be honest and say I would probably be scared to death if she said, yeah let's get rid of the nasty thing. I've never had an operation in my life. Novocaine is the closest thing to anesthetic I know anything about. Oy.
Either way it goes, I'm screwed.
(Typical.)
Listen, I gotta go. I have to find the Advil.
I have Vicodin in the house, but I'm a'skeered ta take it.
(Typical.)
If I were you ( ) I would step AWAY from the computer...