When You're A Girl

When you're a girl, you have one week a month that you aren't quite... yourself.

Well, if you're lucky it's only one week a month.

*Cough* I WISH *Cough*

When you're a girl, you'll wake up one morning feeling as if your boobs were hit with 10 lb rubber mallets all night long.

It will get worse and you will end up wanting to cut them off because that would feel SO much better. If your Loverface even so much as blinks at The Twins, you can go ahead and swat, bite, punch, or whatever else you feel is necessary to deter him.

When you're a girl, you'll find yourself eating everything in sight.

Yes, everything. 

See that half eaten pack of 2 month old stale Ritz Crackers sitting on the counter? Yep, eat 'em. 

Three king sized packs of Mini Rolos at 7-11 AND a bag of Chex Mix Muddy Buddies? Go for it! 

Just got done eating 6 pancakes with Biscoff spread and a quart of strawberries? So what! Grab that orange and plum and dump half a box of granola on it.

While you're innocently looking in the fridge for something to drink, you see that bag of organic carrot chips and think, "Hey! Healthy snack!" Yeah.... pour half of those suckers into a skillet and dump some olive oil, butter, red pepper, salt, pepper, and cinnamon butter on them. Who are you kidding girlfriend? You KNOW you didn't intend on putting any of those back in the fridge. Eat the whole pan-full. 

Right as you're polishing those beauties off you'll see a commercial for some deep-dish pizza and from the depths within yourself, no not your heart.... Nope lower than your stomach.... Yep! That's your uterus screaming that unless you find a way to have that deep-dish pizza, you won't be getting any relief.

Ha! Relief! That's your uterus and ovaries attempt at making a not so funny, funny. 

No amount of Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Advil, Midol, or ANY medication is going to bring anything even close to resembling that word... Relief. Blech. Its like a curse word. And when you're a girl, you WILL be cursing that word.

When you're a girl you can be found on the couch with a heating pad inside your pants on both sides. Yep, one is to cradle you're uterus as it thrashes about inside of you and one is to keep your ovaries from breaking out through your back, because contrary to what any doctor tells you, your ovaries are on the inside wielding rusty knives that have been heated in the fiery depths of hell.

You see, when you're a girl, and when that special time comes along that makes you feel a little off, your ovaries actually aren't quite themselves either. They go from tiny little organs inside your body to red bandanna wearing, knife wielding members of the Crips Bloods. 

If you aren't on the couch then you can be found in the bathtub soaking in scalding hot water and praying to Holy JuJu to just let you die already. Not in the bathtub? Well then you're probably on the bed vacillating between the fetal position and thrashing around like the chick from The Last Exorcism.

Speaking of being posessed, when you're a girl, you'll have pretty much everyone around you, including yourself, that you have been taken over by Satan's Mama. One minute you'll be as happy as the blue birds flying over the bright and shiny rainbow and in a split-second your head will spin 360 degrees around while your eyes go black. You'll feel like pulling your hair out at the sheer stupidity of EVERYONE and EVERYTHING around you. How dare that mother-effing car get in front of you?! And that commercial on the tv... You know, the one about those magical pads and tampons that come in cute wrappers that magically make your period into something that you don't notice and magically turn you into a skinny, unbloated, smiling, happy, flawlessly beautiful chick. Is it TRYING to piss you off?! I swear a man came up with that one. Once your pupils go back to their normal size and you no longer look like Carrie, you'll be in floods of tears. Over what? Nothing. And Everything. And then you won't even know about what and you'll cry even more over that.

Its a time of misery.
And despair.
And pain.
And tears.
And realization.

Yes, realization.

When you're a girl you realize that as much as it sucks, you're praising Holy JuJu and Mother Earth its us females who deal with it because if it was something a man had to do...

We'd all die.
Us from insanity and them from us killing them.