Breathe, woman, breathe…

first pumpkin

as women know, and men will never, ever, ever comprehend fully, the various incarnations of PMS sucks.  plain and simple.

i woke up this morning feeling like a giant bag of balloons.  i got to work and everything sucked.  one thing that an INFJ hates is incompetence.  and people just seemed to be teeming with it today.  no not everyone, i’m not a total bitch.  pms for me is this: everything is heightened, exaggerated, and all the while i feel like a gnarly tub of lard, about as unsexy as possible.  my tummy i swear was distended like someone three months pregnant, and i was alternately hot and cold, so doing the smart thing and riding in was of course not even in my mind today.  people were just not cool today and i was trying everything in my power to just NOT react to anything.

it just reminded me – in a more magnified way – how much i am yearning to just be left the hell alone to do what i’m good at.  at the end of the day, i could feel myself light up with smiles when one of my clients came to see me – just to be around someone who i know respects why i’m there and what i do, it’s what keeps me showing up every day.  until i get to the place where i get my real days with chocolates and other beautiful creations and whatever else i’m meant to be and do and have.

so tonight was all about releasing that excess negative energy, get myself feeling right again.  craving the two wheels finally, i hopped on and rode through the mist at dusk.  not particularly fond of being in jeans and a long-sleeved tee, but frustrated and flustered enough to not give a rats ass, i took off in the jacks, with the music in the ears and my hair in a messy ponytail.  you know when you hit shuffle and things are playing just like you need ’em?  here’s a few of what did it for me tonight as i went from a dark and pissy mood and circled back home feeling much more quiet…easy to see where the transition from out to in went eh…

stigmata (ministry)
skankin’ to the beat (fishbone)
what you waiting for (gwen stefani)
pause as i grab some chicken and gorgonzola and green grapes at the store…
hounds of love (kate bush)
imagination (xymox)
blue savannah (erasure)

nope, never something a dj would approve of, not that i’ve ever trusted dj’s.  but did i feel better, hell yeah.  my shoulders are still tight with some leftover tensions and i’m not sure i care for it getting dark so early already, but i can deal.  i’m processing, i’m breathing, i’m ready for this day to be done…
what do i want?  a few more freckles from playing in the garden as summer winds down
what do i want more?  the world in my eyes, standing on a beach in a cozy brown sweater
what do i want most?  a quiet life with love and laughs and words and music and sanctuary
not too much to ask, is it…?
is it?

3 thoughts on “Breathe, woman, breathe…

  1. NYOPE! not too much to ask at all.

    PMS is just the worst!! i get under the blankets and shut out the world when that happens. One nice thing my ex would do for me was make me LOTS of tea…LOL for some STRANGE reason i like to have cups and cups and cups of tea. im already a tea fanatic but its especially during this time that i always have a mug in my hand. LOL.


  2. LD – that's how i feel about hot cocoa, love a warm cup of cocoa when i feel yucky. my ex husband treated me like i was defective and i remember once even said 'you should really do something about it' and i'm thinking okay, i'll just go get a hysterectomy. jackass.

    GF – you are just full of piss and vinegar today aren't you…


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