While I myself, am not at an all time high. You ever have those days where you are pms'ing so bad that if someone says hello, or how are you with just the right inflection, you will burst into tears? Well today is that day.
I seriously did not want to get out of bed today. I'm not depressed, I'm not sick (read "ill"), I just felt the urge to hibernate and not talk to anyone today. Of course I get here to the chiropractor's and I have 5 massages. Thank you, thank you powers that be, but let's just say that today, work is a good acting exercise. My first appointment was entirely craniosacral though, so that put me in better spirits. I just feel my damn womb ready to burst, and it's annoying me. It's like I feel that anyone's gaze will burn a hole into my chest. While on the phone, I swore and yelled at the lady from the cab company, which I was calling because I missed my fucking bus by like 5 seconds. It was one of those bus driving away while I try to run with my pathetic little roller bag full of my lunch, 6 sets of sheets, my accordian file folder full of client files. Time slowed, my curses were drowned out by my heart beating from sprinting with my bag - it wasn't pretty. So needless to say, I was in a mood when I called the cab from the bus stop. Why are cab dispatchers some of the surliest, bitchiest, not getting laidest mother fuckers around? This bitch was like, "that's not a real address..." I'm like, "yes it fucking is." The difference was that I was saying Thomas East, and she apparently wanted me to say East Thomas. Instead of inquiring as to whether east thomas might be the correct address, she got all cunty. Therefore, so did I. I'm not saying I'm proud of it, but there you have it.
So on a lunch break now. Going to do my 4 other rubs, go home, have a simple yet filling dinner, rub some melty goo all over my body, chant, adjust my attitude, and relax. The only thing missing from that equation is a hot tub. Well, and we need to work in the requisite pre-menstrual sex. You read that last statement Ly? Good.
/end ranty bitchiness
Friday, May 12, 2006
Estrogen levels at an all time high
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
Why are cab dispatchers some of the surliest, bitchiest, not getting laidest mother fuckers around? This bitch was like, "that's not a real address..." I'm like, "yes it fucking is." The difference was that I was saying Thomas East, and she apparently wanted me to say East Thomas. Instead of inquiring as to whether east thomas might be the correct address, she got all cunty.
You want I should go, you know, "make an example of her"?
Well, and we need to work in the requisite pre-menstrual sex. You read that last statement Ly? Good.
You don't scare me. Much.
As I have never called a cab dispatcher, I don't have that wonderful experience. However, I had a run in with a stupid directory operator on the phone who called me stupid. We ended up yelling curses back and forth and really vicious insults then he hung up on me. People on phones think they are all tough and shit. Whatever.
Good pre-men. sex on ya, babe.
Why are cab dispatchers some of the surliest, bitchiest, not getting laidest mother fuckers around?
I think you just answered your own question there, love.
It's because they're cab dispatchers.
I don't mean to brag, but I can get whatever I want from people on the phone. Dates bvack to working on the Y2K project for BofA, where my job was to call vendors and demand that they supply us with certification that they were Y2K compliant.
So, Hewlett Packard was giving me the runaround one day, just bouncing me from department to department. I finally get this kid on the phone and snapped. "Listen, I'm calling from Bank of America and I'm getting pretty pissed off because I've been bounced around between departments for the last half-hour and I just need a simple answer. If you can help me get that answer, you will be My Guy. Do you want to be My Guy?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Alright then, let's get to it."
I also have no problem calling someone a bitch/dick and hanging up, or demanding a supervisor, or whatever.
I think the key is righteous indigantion. Makes people hop to on the phone.
It's because you're a verbal whore JJ, like my husband. I say that with the utmost respect. Normally I have the where-with-all to stick to my guns, be rational and pushy, but yesterday, not that day - I was just irrational. Had a nice long cry last night, and some much needed canoodling this morning - things are looking up.
Sometimes all you can do to feel a bit better or at least to work through something is to cry. I'm glad you are feeling better today.
You ever have those days where you are pms'ing so bad that if someone says hello, or how are you with just the right inflection, you will burst into tears?
Yes honey, all the fucking time. And if I'm not crying, I'm about to rip the head off of anyone. Anyone with a penis that is. One would think that I don't like men. I love them. Just not when my boobs fucking hurt.
Thank God for Evening Primrose Oil. If you're not already.....
Evening Primrose Oil - 3000 mg daily for the next three months or at least until you start feeling relief of PMS and menstrual cramping. Some women are lucky to feel the effects sooner, some take as long as six months. You can find EPO at most health food store, stores that have a natural section, and even Wal-Mart carries it. There are other brands that are a EPO plus other stuff blend for menstrual support, they're good, but the plain EPO is just fine, in fact I suggest just the EPO because it's more affordable and just as effective.
Once you start having relief from PMS you can cut back to 1000 mg a day and then go back to 3000 mg the week before and during your cycle. Some women are able to only take the 3000 mg the week before and during, I find that I do better when I have a constant level of EPO.
Red Raspberry Leaf - Drink three or more cups daily.
Catnip tea is good too.
Increase your intake of calcium, magnesium, vit D and B complex before and during your cycle.
I am so late in my commenting--hope the pms resolved without too much trouble.
Check this--I'm so high tech that I'm commenting on my (well, E's work's) lap top while driving on I15. Wish I was playing a driving game with you, though.
Post a Comment