All of these emotions that come along with “PMS” (which for the record is not bullshit, it’s real!) has me all kinds of fucked up. I’ve noticed that PMS creates a force field of constant hostility, happiness and sadness. Last week, I cried because a family won Family Feud, WTF! real tears yo (I wasn’t sad I was super happy for them). This is not the first time this has happened during PMS week. People with whom I dislike at work (one person in particular, because I wholeheartedly believe she’s a bigot) I actually want to throat chop. I have to be super conscious of my facial expressions during PMS week, because I’ve been known to make the “bitch please” face when someone says something stupid, asks me a question or breathes in my direction.
A friend of mine wrote a beautiful poem (Ruby Flo) about her period, and I remember reading it and thinking, “damn maybe, I’m being too hard on this awesome feminine gift that was specifically created for my kind and my kind only”, then cramp day hits and I’m like “fuck this shit I wish I were a boy, why do men not have to deal with this shit, I hate life”.
Bloat is real, if you’re thinking of being cute during PMS week; plan on being salty because bloat gives zero fucks about your cuteness.
The best gift my period has to offer is loss of appetite, a bitch loses at least five pounds during the week, but then I gain it back during PMS week. SMH you see how this is a vicious cycle that hurts all of whom experiences it once a month.
I know this is an odd post to read, and you probably weren’t expecting it, but I’ve been reading shitty shit all week. And honestly I’m tired of being in my feelings, I can’t wait for this presidential race to be over with. I wish you could legally kill all the stupid racist people in the world…