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This is a very accurate portrayal of my current state:

I was talking with a friend last night while being high on Midol, on commercials that are all about periods and how awesome it is. Uncomfortably skinny white jeans, going out dancing all night with a smile on your face? Fuck yes. That’s exactly how I feel.


No, I’m joking. This entire post is going to be sarcasm, there is no ending it. I always found it ridiculous how this incredible time of the month is portrayed. I mean, I understand why they have to. It’s a much more appealing commercial to see that than to see that same woman with no makeup, wearing jogging pants, curled up into the fetal position on the couch surrounded by empty chocolate wrappers with the TV remote in her hand watching movies.

That’s also an accurate portrayal of me right now. Minus the chocolate wrappers and I’m wearing real pants now. But, I digress here.

It isn’t so elaborate when you haven’t showered yet, you move from the bedroom to the couch, lethargic and feeling sick and pained, trying to eat enough chocolate so that it will somehow appease the ovarian gods to ease up on the cramps and nausea.

“Oh almighty uterus, please spare me from this plight. I come bearing offerings of sugary milk chocolate love.”

In all seriousness, I feel like I want to punch a baby, eat enough chocolate to gain diabetes, throw up and cry. All at the same time. Very conflicting. And of course, explaining any of this to anyone that isn’t a woman, or even to another woman who doesn’t have any sort of bad months…It’s hard. They think that you’re exaggerating or that you can help yourself out and just be stable and normal. Well, for a week, I simply can’t. I’m sure I could, but why fight it.

I’m going to go watch The Lion King now and be more curled up into these blankets, wishing death upon everyone who isn’t me.

…Does that make me a Dalek?

“EXTERMINATE.” Is also accurate.