You know what sucks balls sometimes? Being a woman. And by sometimes, I mean once a month. Yeah, yeah, ‘that’ time of month. You got it.
I’m talking about my body once again acknowledging the fact that I am not planning on becoming a mother any time soon and, subsequently, punishing me for it with mood swings, uncontrollable chocolate cravings and a general ‘don’t touch me, or talk to me, or look at me’ mood.
As this is a ‘tales of a hypocrite’ long-awaited, *coughs*, sequel, I will hereby call myself out on yet another hypocritical thought I’ve had recently.
I used to laugh at those women who considered PMS a good excuse to be moody and irrational. And now, as I sit in the office, clenching my jaw, trying to suppress my mind-numbing anger towards everyone and everything around me, while throwing back chocolates like it’s nobody’s business, I am here to declare: PMS is real. It’s a thing, it’s real and damn right it’s gonna be my excuse, because I’m normally a very nice person.
I never really had issues with PMS before. Scratch that. I full on didn’t have it and didn’t even know what the word ‘cramps’ meant. Hashtag blessed, am I right ladies?
It’s a different story nowadays though. I guess that, as I get older, my body is becoming even more impatient with the fact that I’m not growing humans inside me, so it reacts accordingly. Thanks, biological clock.
Body, don’t you get it? You’re taking me on a downward spiral. How will eating chocolates and gaining back those pesky pounds, not to mention acting like a notorious bitch, help me find a potential mate? How, I ask you??? You’re not making this any easier…
So yeah, I’m a hypocrite, because as I discovered PMS (or rather, as it discovered me), I also started using it to my advantage. I’m sorry, feminists of the world, but our hormones aren’t doing us any favors.