missing in action

I've been looking forward to my three day weekend for several weeks and now the 100 little gods have decided to rain on my parade. I spent 5 hours Friday running around completing what was supposed to be a simple task - not even my own really - only to have it grow tentacle like complications that pretty much wasted my day. I did get it finished though so that's positive. Then I got to spend a few hours with several of the best girlfriends one can have.

By the time I got home the "visitor" showed up, and I hadn't really been watching the calendar so I hadn't gotten myself psyched up to deal with it. You know, it never used to be such a big freakin' deal. Every twenty eight days - a little poochiness, 4 days of bodily betrayal and done. Now, it starts with a day of ovarian twinges, 5 days of mess, fatigue, cravings for salt & sugar, neither of which I am supposed to have, and general malaise. I want to see my friends but I don't want to GO OUT THERE. My pants are too tight, I get two days of kankles so a dress is out, and I have a zit on the end of my nose. Just fucking lovely.

Apparently I am a little cranky.

And because it is my own body betraying my general desire to have a good time, I obsess.

I also missed Katie's Wino party last night and the santa claus parade today due to general uncomfortablity topped off with the remains of a hacking bronchitis cough and an icky stomach.

I wish the mental pause would be done already. Stupid hot flashes. Did you know that people think it is inappropriate to skin down to a tankini at the office in the winter?

I know - whine whine whine. I have the cheese thanks.