PMS

I don't know how many times I've written about this, but I will again anyway.

I have PMS and it's making me feel like the ugliest person in the world.

All the symptoms seem to think my body is the best place to hang out, and now they're inside me, all over my thighs, my arms, my tummy, my brains, my energy, my emotions. They're probably smoking pot, which explains why I've been acting very strangely lately.

I'm more moody than Moody Diaz because I want to go home and sleep, but I still have to do a million things and sort out stuff in my mind. My thighs are extra large and my arms are unusually big that I have to spread them out once in a while to see if they're still ok, that they haven't multiplied or grown into two separate entities.

I guess this kind of bitchiness is excusable for a person like me, who fears objecting to anything that moves. It's a great exercise to improve my assertiveness.

I want to think that I will lose five pounds once this my time of the month has transpired, because back home that usually happened. What's with this place anyway?

And lastly I want to share with you my hate list, because I cannot contain all of them in my mind, otherwise I'd be so upset I'd just burst in to tears or run away all the way to Oman (must remember to bring my passport).

MY HATE LIST:

1. my crabby carlift driver
2. my tummy
3. my thighs
4. my arms
5. my skin
6. backache
7. all the guys at work
8. constipation
9. the guy who promised to call us but didn't
10. my metabolism
11. my waller
12. my teeth
13. magazines
14. newpapers
15. my clothes