Fuck mother nature.

So. Those of you females out there blessed enough to get to experience the JOYS of PMS can probably relate to this one…

So. My day started off normal, like any other day. There were a few tell tale signs that should have keyed me in, but as my ‘lady time’ is irregular AS FUCK, im not too in tune to that kinda shit.

I messed up my eyeliner and almost started to cry.

My work day proceeded as normal with only a few small hiccups. I demolished some tootsie rolls and almost killed Mick for bringing Cheyenne spaghetti and not me.

I realized I forgot to take the chicken out of the freezer for dinner. I texted “MAX” (all names have been changed to protect the innocent) to ask if he could quick “run to the store and grab some meat I forgot to take any out to thaw.”

I get home. Ask him where the meat is. “In the microwave” he tells me.

I look in the microwave.

THERE IS A HUNK OF FROZEN SOLID CHICKEN SITTING IN THE MICROWAVE. THE ENTIRE POINT WAS FOR IT TO BE THAWED AND READY TO COOK WITH!!!

I almost started crying… almost.  So I proceed to defrost and prep the chicken. I almost start three fights with ‘max’ in the 20 minute process.

I decided I needed to go take a shower ASAP so I could have some me time to deal with my problems – AKA not kill ‘max’. Showers are my method of coping. Give me a cold beer and… well… I hope you don’t plan on seeing me for a WHILE. But you will hear me. Cuz my ass will be singing LOUD.

So im in the shower and im BAWLING. Like a fucking BABY. Like straight up UGLY CRYING. Snot and mascara running like it’s the Boston marathon. (too soon?)

I decide there is only one logical thing that will help.

CHOCOLATE. LOTS OF FUCKING CHOCOLATE.

But we have no chocolate.

I Start pounding on the bathroom wall and yelling for Jordan, who comes running. I tell her I NEED her to go grab “MAX” and tell him to take my debit card and go to the gas station and buy me chocolate.

About a minute later he comes upstairs and seems confused.

Now im not sure what could be LESS confusing about the situation

1. im in the shower crying like ET just died
2. I want chocolate

Its not the most complicated puzzle to put together here…

But nope. Not my man. My man offers me a half eaten chocolate alligator that’s been lost in his beer fridge since JUNE.

IF I DIDN’T EAT IT THEN WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO EAT IT NOW?

Now at this point I know that I’m not being the most …rational person in the world.

CHOCOLATE DOESN’T JUDGE ME! CHOCOLATE UNDERSTANDS!

But he is confused about what I want and I don’t care but I know I DON’T want what he is suggesting! I don’t want old ass chocolate I just want TWIX AND DONUTS AND STARBUCKS MOCHA FRAPPUCCHINO AND ALL THE CHOCOLATE! NOT YOUR GOD DAMN CHOCOLATE ALIGATOR!

If he cant go get me chocolate now what happens if we ever have a kid? IM GOING TO HAVE CRAVINGS AND WANT FOOD! This (hypothetical) pregnancy is going to SUCK.

Why doesn’t he love me enough to get me chocolate? THE GAS STATION IS ONLY LIKE THREE MINUTES AWAY!! I bet he would get his ex some chocolate

I don’t want him to get me chocolate anyway! If he doesn’t WANT to get it then I don’t WANT it! ASSHOLE! I bet he got his EX chocolate when SHE asked for it!

Omg he hates me! IF HE LOVED ME HE WOULD GET ME SOME FUCKING CHOCOLATE. 

Now have you ever seen/read ‘The Host’? Essentially this alien invades this girls mind and the girl is fighting it and arguing with it and trying to talk sense into it and get it out and take back over her mind. Shes trapped. In her own mind.

Basically that’s what had happened. And normal calm everyday Casey who isn’t a complete emotional psycho was trapped and couldn’t get out. I knew she was there, I could hear her telling me to calm down, that it wasn’t a big deal, that I was probably scaring ‘max’ and knock that shit off but BWA HA HA HA HA SHE WAS TRAPPED AND MR(S?) HYDE WAS FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

So I tell him never mind. I was even nice about it. I tell him I understand how that could be confusing and politely thank him. All the while im strangling my shampoo bottle.

I get out of the shower.

I sit on the bed naked for several minutes before I text Becky and express my warring desires – to stab ‘MAX’ vs. eat chocolate.

She invited me over to smoke.

And eat chocolate.

She had some. She understands.