Tuesday was one of those days. If you’re a woman and you have a uterus, you know what I’m talking about. The kind of day where every slight thing feels like a mountain crumbling around you. I was overwhelmed at every turn and wanted nothing more than to spend the evening cuddled up with a book and a glass of wine. Unfortunately, I don’t live in a Nicholas Sparks type of utopian fairytale.
All day I fought the urge to cry, and I longed to be at home with Mike. 5:00 finally came, and when I got home I was greeted by the mess that I’d failed to clean up over the weekend. Bella was barking. Clutter was strewn all over the living room, dining room, bedroom, and laundry room. All I could think about was how the hell did my mom hold it together all those years, with me and my dad tearing up anything she ever put away. I was rude to Mike even though I knew he had to work tonight and I wouldn’t see him all evening.
So naturally I did what any PMSing lady would do. I ordered a pizza, made myself a whiskey and diet, and plopped down on the couch to mope. The world immediately felt smaller. Then Mike got home, I apologized for my raging hormones, and he ordered his own pizza.
Here are some picture from my trip to New York in 2009 because I don’t think I’ve ever shared them.