Well, more accurately, I had the blahs. Yesterday I did NOT feel good. I was all crampy, my hair looked like crap, my skin looked like crap, I am bloated so my pants are tight, even though I know I have lost weight. Right under my skin I feel ready to errupt at the slightest provocation. To top it all off, it was my long Monday, which means I can't leave work until 7ish. I had every intention to go to the gym and walk during The Bachelor, but then I got wind that the President was going to speak, and in my mood at the moment, I was all, "AAAAAAAAAHUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHH, why is Barack foresaking me? I can't exercise to a press conference." So I decided to go home. Mr. P met me at the door.
Me: (quite whiney) I don't feel good. My lady guts hurt, and I feel all squishy inside.
Mr. P: I am so sorry. (hugs me). Do you think you could be having your menopause?
Me: OH MY GOD. I am not even 40.
Mr. P: But don't you just want to do it now so we can have more fun?
WHAT?!? I believe his point is that he does not dig our method of birth control, and if I would just have MY menopause already, then he doesn't have to worry about it anymore. If you thought I lost my mind and freaked out on him...I didn't. I laughed pretty hard, and told my son to never, ever ask a woman UNDER 40 if she was having "her menopause".
P.S. I told him I would try really hard not to blog about that, but alas, I lost that battle with myself.