I went mental over the weekend.
I woke up Saturday morning and just lost it.
My mind, that is.
I was all ornery and cranked-out and PMS-ing all over the place.
And when I say PMS-ing I mean cramped and crying + irrational, psychotic and hyper-sensitive about ev-ry-thing.
My boobs were swollen and started taking over my neck space which greatly pleased the bee but left me feeling anything but sexy. For those who just read that and thought: “Oh, that BITCH. Complaining about her giant boobs, why I aughta…”
Just hold it right there…
Along with getting monster boobs I also get the highly hot & sexy belly bloat which makes me feel like a beached whale too fat and useless to even be rolled back into the ocean.
You know what?
That’s not all entirely true.
My being mentally unstable and pre-m’d is spot on. It’s just that, in truth, it started getting this way about a week before Saturday and I still kinda feel that way right now.
Which is probably why I hate everything about this post and what I’ve written and if I could scribble all over my monitor and then crumple it into a little ball and heave it in a wastebasket only to hysterically pick it out 10 seconds later making futile attempts to smooth out the wrinkles and decipher what I’ve written under scribble marks and creases and the blueberry yogurt gobs now smeared throughout the page because I don’t always throw my food trash in the kitchen which is bad I know but I can be really lazy and even though the desk trash starts to smell pretty foul after awhile because of rotting yogurt cultures that have been collecting amidst miscellaneous desk debris and hair clippings (I’ll get to that in a minute) imma do it anyway and then I realize that I threw this piece of trash away for good reason so I proceed to stomp kill it once and for all before ripping it into a million tiny pieces and then throwing those god-forsaken pieces back into the trash except for the ones smeared with yogurt because I’ve just realized that it’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon and all I’ve eaten that day is 2 pots of coffee and a little bit of fiber couldn’t hurt at this point…
You know what you probably shouldn’t do if you are emotionally unstable/trying to grow-out your hair?
Start chopping away at it maniacally!!!
First it started as a means to get rid of a few split ends. Then I kept finding more and more and MORE until I was finally finished and it was clear that I now had a new, wildly lopsided problem.
Trying to straighten some things out resulted in shorter, stupider looking hair that I basically hate.
Since I was already aboard the crazy train to almost balds-ville I took the next logical course of action:
I bleached a skunk-stripe in the front…
except it’s really not much to speak of.
The bleach I used wasn’t very strong which was probably a blessing in my case given my track record for the day.
I call this one “Sadface/Duckface”:
If, like myself, you have a major case of sadface then you should just go over and view the archives at antiduckface.com.
After looking through like 3 pictures you’ll at least be happy that you aren’t any of those people.
Or just feel worse than ever.
That all depends on your penchant for giving duckface.