Thursday, February 04, 2010

Lady Bug and the Bitch

Stress and hormones don't mix. Worse than oil and water. Worse than Kool-aid and champagne. Worse than Mo'Nique and Nair.

Seriously, this week my mood has been all over the place. I think I have traveled the emotional continent on a world tour in the past week. Crying at the drop of a Kleenex over things I don't normally cry about. I cursed out a cabbie (well, he deserved it but I went IN on my tirade). I've been non-social (and you KNOW that's not me). I conjured up all kinds of not-suitable for the viewing audience blogs. Luckily, a hint of my sanity remained because I would hear her say "Bitch you can't publish that?! What the hell is wrong with you?" I, too, had to wonder "what the hell is wrong with me?"

On one hand I'm stressed. Yeah, this corporate divorce and subsequent corporate jumpoff status has wreaked havoc on my finances, my plans, my life in general. I dread going to the plantation (as I call it now). Then most days the job posting suck stinky monkey balls. Like really you expect me to do all of that for less than my 1st job salary??!! Ummm, yeah, NO! Add that to other life stressors - family, dating, my booty (yes my booty stresses me out..I feel like I'm a cheeseburger away from being thrust into a Jenny C.r.a.i.g commercial against my will just because I'm a fatty).

So add to the stress, the torrential hormonal flux of The Lady Bug (as I call that time) and you have the recipe for an emotional roller coaster - complete with twists and turns, and death defying drops. I'll admit to PMS - I get a lil moody (mostly just quiet and introspective), the girls feel like cannonballs on my chest (those who know me, know these chicks ain't NO WHERE near cannonball size), I crave salty snacks (give me my Honey BBQ, Salt & Vinegar, Onion & Garlic potato chips. Not all together but if you love me, you will make sure I have a supply of at least 2 varieties once a month). This is all "the usual" for me. But this week coupled with the stress, I've felt like someone else. Everything was exaggerated. When my reactions should have been a 2, I felt they were a 10. You know how every damn thing is over-dramatized on the soaps?? Well I felt like Erica Kane this week, queen of the over-drama.

I can't live like this. I've lived with the PMS since the awkward big booty teen years, so that I can manage (as long as I have my chips! hahahaha). But the stress??!!! Sheeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiit, this bitch called stress has got to go. She needs to be evicted from my life ASAP, like YESTERDAY!! I try not to get overwhelmed and normally, I manage the bitch quite well. But when Stress and Lady Bug meet for a playdate, all hell breaks loose. And while I'm not a control freak, I like to be in control of what I say, control of what I do.

So I'm looking for ways to either eliminate the stress or distract me from it. I know primarily, I have to change the situation with this job bull. I know that when I find a gig that I respect, enjoy, and gives me nice satisfying corporate orgasms (paychecks"), I will feel more at peace. But in the meantime, I need to create the peace for myself. I'm just not sure how. But I know damn well, I will need to figure this out in the next 3 weeks or so. If not, I'll be writing another crazy WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME/YA'LL MIGHT WANNA HAVE ME COMMITTED blog, and while I love a cute white spring jacket, uhhhh straitjackets won't go with anything in my closet.

PS I thought yesterday was Tuesday and sat down to write Q 4 a B-Fly. When I found out it wasn't Tuesday, I damn near cried and stopped writing my response to the next question. See??!! A MESS!!! hahahahaha I'll finish either tonight or tomorrow. I won't let the week pass without answering your questions. They really are fascinating.

1 comment:

rashad said...

First off, its hard to summon any f**king sympathy for someone who has signature at the end of their rant. That's pretentious as hell. Who are you? formspring, electronic signatures..

Anyway, working out does wonders for frustration my friend. It makes you too tired to care about your problems..