Estrogen=Crazy

The blog title prob made a few people cringe, but I have to admit I'm chock full of it right now with a side of progesterine. The fun of trying to ensure my uterus is not chock full of babies every month.

Of course with trying to get pill dosage right, a fun little rendevous with the morning after pill about 5 weeks ago and my normal crazyasaloon mood swings, right now to say I've been emotionally charged lately is an understatement.

This is not boding well in trying to convince my one guy friend that all redheads are NOT indeed insane.

But rather than continually feel guilty for the raw nerve endings of my psyche I'm starting to see the actual Benefits of it. Right now through my manic highs of snorting laughter and lows of offended tears I'm seeing that I am Aware of my emotions more right now than I have been in a long time. It's scary and real.

I crave food right now with the salivation of a pregnant woman.
I want kisses that are salty with passion, not bitter from booze.
I hurt when people say rude things rather than brushing it off.
I appreciate the many things people do for me, which don't come with enough thank yous.
I enjoy the new friendships I have been making and growing from.
I lust for a sense of balance between the adult I am and the immature girl that reflects back.
I hope to look better than my exboyfriends shiny new girlfriend at the dinner party Saturday.
I'm happy he's happy, but just unhappy it was so soon afterwards.
I wish people would take me more seriously. Doing stupid things doesn't make me a stupid person.
I rage when people are careless with feelings.
I hesitate to accept casual sex as substitute over substance.
I absorb stories from others, like sunshine on my face.
I speak advice I can only wish to follow myself, someday.
I care too much about the little stuff while knowing in the end the big picture will work out.
I envy people with families right now. At 28 it finally struck me...Wives. Husbands. Children. As it brings purpose that my lifestyle is too selfish and insula rto permit.
I miss a sense of belonging at work.
I love me, flaws and all.
I hate that I have to remind myself of that.

If anything this time period has allowed a sense of emotional freedom and catharsis, not wanted but expected and appreciated. A hormonal imbalance that can create a sense of chaos and inner confusion at times that make me wonder if I could be tiptoeing towards a breakdown of sorts, but with it also brings a clarity and empowerful of appreciating all the deeprooted feelings you push aside during your day because you're too busy with stuff.

What are you feeling?

Get Outta My Head

K, I'm on some kickass antibiotic right now. Why? The doctor boiled it down to ear infection/strep throat. That or scurvy. Either or I would suspect.

Anyhooooow. They rock at making me not feel like I have water in my ear, and I dig that. Just like the throat that no longer burns of sweet sweet hellfire. But have been noticing that ever since starting these pills I have occured some of the more messed up dreams I've had in quite some time. Observe...

Night 1) My parent arrive with my car* and I'm hella stoked after being carless for seven weeks. But it's not neccesarily the car they promised. In fact rather than showing up in an Infiniti J83 they show up in a 1980's minivan with Infinity spraypainted on the back. I balk that this is my new set of wheels. They get huffy and call me upgrateful. I'm in the mountains and there's a blizzard so I do what anyone would do. Take a nap in the spacious backseat and hope things work themselves out.

Night 2) I have sex with a fellow blogger. In a confession booth. In a mall. With people watching.

Night 3) I'm in a setting that in very horror movie-esque. Such as 2 killers trying to kill me in an institutional building where I keep having to run and find places to hide. There's even the cheeseball part where there's a morgue and I hide under the bedsheet like another body to avoid imminent stabbing to the face.* Somehow I find a secret passageway to a whole other section of the building which is safe from the killers. And I go to the cafeteria and pay 17 dollars for a fajita and am choked at the price. I also notice my ex boyfriend sitting at the cafeteria and I look like ass from all the running and sweating. I debate going back to serial killer ville. Instead I stay and eat and pretend to ignore him.

* The car arrives next Saturday!
* Even though there's a morgue in the building this isn't a hospital

Now lets see what tonight brings...