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That Time of the Month is coming fast. How can I tell? Hellacious cravings and crazy mood swings. That whacky, whacky PMS!

Still working my ass off. Still writing. When all this is over, I'll probably spend at least two days just lying on the couch and staring at the walls if the bastard voices in my head will let me.
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Last night the Evil Overlord released the great red tide of suckiness. Dammit, why does this always catch me by surprise?

At least it explains why I haven't been able to concentrate very well these last few days. The hormonal surge generally has that effect.

We were supposed to go out to a movie with [ profile] eastpath and her SO yesterday evening, but ended up cancelling for a couple of reasons:

1) Environment Canada had issued a storm warning for the Winnipeg city region, including a large hail warning; and
2) [ profile] eastpath was coming down with what she thought was pinkeye. Ouch.

So George and I ended up going out for supper to Colosseo, an Italian restaurant a couple of blocks from where we live. The food is top-notch, but it's really hard to convey in words just how tacky the interior of this particular restaurant is. To give you an idea, I'll tell you that there are three-foot-wide brown plastic bas-reliefs on the walls of ancient Roman emperors, and they are lit from inside with bright red highlights. In the dimly-lit interior, the end result is both comical and awful.

As we were paying for our meal a woman came into the restaurant looking for Gusto's, a pizza place where she was suppposed to meet her sister for dinner. Nobody had heard of it, so I suggested going to the Italian grocery store across the street; perhaps they knew where it was. I was assuming that it was a new restaurant on the Corydon Avenue strip. A few minutes later, when George and I walked into the grocery store to pick up some items, we found the woman inside looking rather harried. The grocery store owners had never heard of it either.

Then George suggested that I use my cellphone to call Directory Assistance and get the listing for Gusto's. I flagged the woman down and did just that. It turns out that she was looking for Pizzaria Gusto, and that it was located in the 400 block of Academy -- about a seven minute car ride away, but quite far off of Corydon Avenue. The expression on the woman's face when she realized just how far away she was from her destination was a classic, almost comic book "Oh, NO!"...

So I've done my good deed for the week. Yay.

This afternoon I went out to Cora's for lunch with Terri. More on that later.

Right now I have to see if I can get my head screwed on straight enough to work on MM. George is taking a nap and I'm considering waking him up, considering how depressed I am and that I'm tending toward self-harm. I'll see how it goes.
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I'm getting moody, snappy, and very snarky. My mouth (and keyboard) have a tendency to run away with themselves.

Hormonetown, here I come!

Feh... time to go and exercise, or try to. I wasn't very successful at it yesterday.
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I woke up this morning with a neck that's sore in both of the levatore scapulae muscles (long muscles that run up the back of the neck to the right and left of the spine). I don't know if I slept on it wrong or what, but since neck stiffness is a bad sign while taking Trisulpha I'm definitely keepng an eye on it.

I woke up with a lower back ache as well. Checking my calendar, I discovered that it's been 21 days since my last period. Yay, PMS! That might also explain why I was slightly nauseous last night.

So today I took my first dose of evening primrose oil, after checking with my pharmacist that it wouldn't interact in funky ways with the Trisulpha.

After breakfast I went right back to bed and slept for three and a half more hours. I've been up for about an hour and a half now and am feeling fairly chipper, but at the slightest sign of deeper fatigue I'm going right back between the sheets.

Oh, and the Freewebs site builder appears to be broken -- it won't allow me to embed links to pages already on the site, or rather, it brings up a "Loading" window while trying to access all the links and nothing ever loads. *sigh* I have a trouble ticket in with them so hopefully they'll sort things out in the next day or so.

There's a dustup over on [ profile] solitarywiccans that's the result of a comment over here. Someone said:

I was at a drummin last march for the spring equinox and was really annoyed when a girl approached a couple with the drumstick and they refused to participate, tellin her not to ask them to go ask someone else. To me that is disrespect to the gods/goddesses. Any kind of act to the gods/goddesses is to me greatly looked at their eyes. It tells them that u are not one who just passes it by without a thought.

Someone else replied:

I call bullshit.

It is a worse offense before the gods to act before Them without sincerity, without truly wishing to serve Them and to do Their Work.

You cannot compel sincerity.

You have NO idea as to why this couple chose not to participate. You are interpreting it as being disrespectful to the Gods, but in truth you know nothing. If you are going to get that offended by things about which you know absolutely nothing, then perhaps this isn't the religion for you. Or perhaps you need to go back an take a serious look at just exactly what it is you believe and why you believe it.

And things went from there, with various people whacking the first poster with a cluebat while the first poster tries to whack back. Fun times, fun times.

In other news, I am so damned sick of feeling... well, sick. But you'd probably already figured that out. Bah, humbug.
crowdog66: (Default)
May the Gods bless the Internet, from which all information flows. Apparently many women with diabetes find that their blood sugar levels are harder to regulate in the days just before their period:

This makes me feel a little bit more hopeful that my metabolism isn't completely shot.

Having a shower turned out to be a good idea -- I came out of it with my eyes *gasp!* actually open. Then I exercised, only 8 minutes, but it helped a bit more. And George was kind enough to make lunch for me: sausages, eggs, mixed vegetables, and toast. It was delicious. Emmie even got a little piece of sausage, which made her one happy cat indeed.

Now I just have to corral my achy brain and make it buckle down to work. All I really want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. Ah, hormones. How wonderful they are.
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Trying to wake up and not doing a very good job of it. I need more coffee.

Cut for female stuff )

Last night I finally broke the barrier on MM -- I did three pages, each in an hour, and then started turning out pages every 30-45 minutes. I'm crossing my fingers that I can keep up that speed today.

Time to find something to listen to on the studio TV and get down to work... after I scan the latest LJ-related wank, of course.
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Yes, it's that time of month again -- short temper, general irritability, massive cravings for carbs and salt. I just yelled at Mina for meowing in the hallway for no apparent reason. The sound of George eating a chicken pot pie almost drove me to homicide. And a bowl of multigrain taco chips and salsa disappeared down my throat in remarkably short order a few minutes ago.

I think I'll take a couple of aspirin and drink some Diet Pepsi; hopefully the combination of ASA and caffeine will help. In the meantime, to make this post semi-worthwhile, another video from the Simon's Cat animator. I have NO idea how he got into our bedroom and videotaped Emmie's antics, but we've suffered similar abuse on many occasions.

EDITED TO ADD: The taco chips and salsa were just joined in my stomach by three quarters of a cup of no-sugar-added vanilla ice cream. Urg. Me satisfied... for the moment.
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It blows goats through a straw.

I'm trying to hold body and soul together, but every 21-27 days it gets incredibly hard to do so.

I can't wait for menopause.

EDITED TO ADD: Yesterday I bought myself a type of chocolate witch pop commonly sold around here when October draws near. I figured it would comfort me if the PMS got really bad.

I'm so out of sorts, I don't even want to eat it.
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