Poorly Written, but Nonetheless True
I've got it all figured out! The reason I go from raging hormones last week and overindulging in disgusting fatty foods to absolute loneliness and depression is because of...
Ok. So really. I was thinking logically and what I've come to determine is that I still PMS and everything, albeit I have no period. My depoprovera ("The Shot") birth control ceases the suction from my ovaries to my falopian tube. So no egg is released. I dont form a uteral lining that creates "that time of month", but I definitely still experience the joy of womanhood that is PMS. Absolute PMS.
Last week, I was, (and pardon my not-quite-French) horny as a billygoat. I wanted any piece of man I could find, lozl. That sounds terrible, but I've come to accept that that is just how God made me. We're out there looking during our week of "ovulation" for a mate, though in modern times, we like to call him a boyfriend. Not to mention the incredible urge to eat anything sweet and salty we can get our grubby paws upon. All preparing ourselves for a baby that, (which definitely in my case), shall not come along.
The week is topped off by failing miserably to locate a source of insemination, leading to an internal combustion of what everyone now terms PMS. Utter loneliness. Utter rejection. Utter depression. Utter bitchiness.
So really, I've just gotta wait out the week and all should be well.
Such is my deductive reasoning.
Yeah, I'm sure a billion of you already know what I just figured out. I'm sure I've also read it in text books. However, nothing fascinates me more than sheer experience.
Ok. So really. I was thinking logically and what I've come to determine is that I still PMS and everything, albeit I have no period. My depoprovera ("The Shot") birth control ceases the suction from my ovaries to my falopian tube. So no egg is released. I dont form a uteral lining that creates "that time of month", but I definitely still experience the joy of womanhood that is PMS. Absolute PMS.
Last week, I was, (and pardon my not-quite-French) horny as a billygoat. I wanted any piece of man I could find, lozl. That sounds terrible, but I've come to accept that that is just how God made me. We're out there looking during our week of "ovulation" for a mate, though in modern times, we like to call him a boyfriend. Not to mention the incredible urge to eat anything sweet and salty we can get our grubby paws upon. All preparing ourselves for a baby that, (which definitely in my case), shall not come along.
The week is topped off by failing miserably to locate a source of insemination, leading to an internal combustion of what everyone now terms PMS. Utter loneliness. Utter rejection. Utter depression. Utter bitchiness.
So really, I've just gotta wait out the week and all should be well.
Such is my deductive reasoning.
Yeah, I'm sure a billion of you already know what I just figured out. I'm sure I've also read it in text books. However, nothing fascinates me more than sheer experience.