Ugh

Thursday night I felt like I'd been pummelled in the kidneys. I had been an uber-bitch to my son. I felt like shit.

Friday morning, blood draw for cholesterol, breakfast with Mr. Spock, get to Nearby College for my Linguistics class and...

On my way to the classroom I feel queasy and weak, so I go to the bathroom and find that I have had a good reason for my testy, crabby, crampy behavior.

The tidal wave has hit once again. Mystery Mommy is on the rag.

Now normally, I know when it's due. I pay attention to these things. Truly. But for some reason this month I let it totally blind-side me.

And, of course, it's worse than usual. Cramping. Nausea. Headaches. Bitchiness. Quick temper. Sensitive sense of smell so I feel stinky too. And the constant damp, gooey feeling (even with a tampon!) is just squicky.

When I'm prepped for it, it's less of a drain. I usually dose up on some ibuprophen for a couple of days before, and stock up with the chocolate. The squick factor is less when I'm prepped, because I have a tampon with me - this time I had to buy a pad from the dispenser at school and even though I've showered since, I still feel sticky. And if it were just about the old blood and gunk, it wouldn't bother me. Why in the world does it also have to drain every ounce of energy AND make me hurt AND turn me into the Holy Hag from Hell?

I hate me like this. I feel like the World's Worst Mother and the World's Worst Wife.



A point in my favor: I made a killer batch of Baked Shells (formerly known as Baked Ziti) last night and we had leftovers.

A point against: I ate the last brownie...and didn't share.