Anyone want some bad luck?

I’m on a bad luck streak. Ready? Set? Go!

Michael and I almost broke up this weekend. We got into several huge fights (which we’ve been doing a lot of lately), and I really thought it was over. Finally, his wit and good looks won me over again and I forgot why I was mad. I guess the old saying, “what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger,” is true. Every time we go through this we end up being closer and stronger. Not to say that I enjoy fighting with him. I’d rather play Street Fighter II and Castle Crashers together like we did last night.

Naturally, the video game spree didn’t last long. It feels like someone is grinding the bones in my hands together. I really wish this would just go away already. It seems to be getting worse, and it’s actually to the point where I’m so used to being in pain that for the most part it doesn’t even phase me anymore.

Things wouldn’t be so bad if I haven’t had my — sorry, guys — period for twelve days now. It was thirteen days late — yes, I keep religious track — and now that it finally came it won’t go away. I think it’s safe to say that I need to change my birth control. I’d apologize again, but it’s natural. Then again, natural for me is just four or five days, not two freaking weeks!

Of course, my phone had to crap out today. It’s been turning itself on over and over again lately — without turning itself off first, mind you — and I knew it was coming, but still. On top of everything else I have to buy a new phone now. It wouldn’t be such a big deal, since I didn’t always have a cell phone anyway, but I recently put my resume in with a freelancing firm and we’ve been playing phone tag. Now they have no way of getting in touch with me.

Speaking of web design, I still need to buy Adobe Creative Suite software so that I can work. And of course I need to finish fixing the Sunfire so I can get to work, and to get to the English class this summer that’s costing me over a thousand dollars.

So, obviously, you all need to send me checks with at least three digit amounts. It only makes sense. ;)

The good news is, I finally finished the redesign for the Letters of Love website. It still has a few bugs (especially in the Community), but it’s functional. So far it’s gotten a lot of praise, which makes me feel good despite everything that’s been going wrong lately. Go check it out and let me know what you think! And yes, this is shameless self-promotion. :D


PS: I haven’t cheated on quitting smoking in two weeks!

Ibuprofen 800 is my best friend

If you’re a guy, you probably don’t want to read this. I can’t be held liable for any emotional trauma this might put you through. You’ve been warned.

When I get my period it’s usually light, short, and sweet. I live on pantiliners, and four days later it’s all done. I don’t get cramps.

That all changed today.

I’m dying. Seriously. My uterus feels like Freddie Kreuger has his hand twisting around in there. Even worse, I’m a basket case. I’m rereading Breaking Dawn and got to the part where Alice and Jasper take off.

I burst into tears.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lauren asked.

“Alice l-l-left!”

Several minutes later, I got to the part where Bella finds Alice’s note. “T-t-to protect the b-b-baby!”

I went to Mike’s earlier so we could take a trip to Walmart and gave Tracy a huge hug. “Do you have any Midol?” I whispered.

“No, but I’ve got Motrin 800!”

It only took forever to kick in. We went to Walmart and McDonald’s. By the time I put my first fry in my mouth, the 800 finally made its way through my system. I felt normal again.

Until we finished dinner. I took Mike’s head off over rechargeable batteries, and two minutes later I was ready to cry again for being so mean.

“Are you okay?” Poor Mike. He was totally baffled.

“Yeah. No. I don’t know.”

He stood in silence for a moment as I clung to him. “Are you pregnant?”

“No. Definitely not,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You sure?”

Positive.

As I write this I can feel the ibuprofen 800 wearing off (there’s no more — I’m fucked) and I’m stuffing my face with Airheads. I’m pretty sure Mike has no idea I’ve got my period.