It's not PMS. It's worse. It's when everything that was suspended somewhere in the middle of your daily muck fell to the bottom and, on that last wave of fresh air or water or whatever, got turned up. And now it's stewing on the surface. Not even hormones can be blamed. It's the gripes. And I got 'em something nasty.
So, 1 of 2 things. I pluck them from swirling round and round in my mind, muddying that up &:
1) let them go
2) at the very least, burden you with them. Something about misery loves company, & so thanks for reading.
* * *
.Saturday Night Gripes.
1. People. Hypocrites. Blamers. Slackers. Excuse Makers. You Sayers. Controllers. Denial Liars.
2. Excess Fatigue. When I'm going to bed at 11:30PM on a Saturday, haven't yet been up for 12 hours, & got enough sleep during the week...
3. Unnecessary Bloat. When I ate healthy all day, drank 0 alcohol or carbonated beverages, ate fruits & veggies all week long, am not PMS-ing, am definitely not pregnant, & yet look 5 months in... GGGGGGGGGgggggggggggRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrr
4. Twitter. Respond to me dammit. Celebrity & Regular Tweeter Alike. Follow Me. ( @babsiell .) Someday I'm going to be famous. Sooooo. Get on it now.
5. Nonexistent Boyfriends. Quality men are rarer then quality rare steaks. Not only do I not have any prospects right now, but further, I am so far from having any prospects that I don't remember what it feels like--not to have a boyfriend, that memory is long gone--but rather, to have the feeling of having the prospect of having a potential boyfriend. Phew.
I mean, where are all the 30-something confident, but not cocky, environmentally & socially conscious, taller, brunette, casually fashionable, slightly tattooed, self-loving, selfless, non-alcoholic, non-drug addicted, intelligent, HILARIOUS, witty, interesting, outdoorsy, gracious men anyway???????????? I reuse to settle until I find this. Humph.
* * *
going to bed. To
(Oh, & because I'm inexplicably exhausted.)