When your uterus threatens to take hostages, things are clearly out of control. Menstruation Rules!
- At April 6, 2009
- By Lotus, aka Sarcastic Mom
- In Body/Health, Humor, Rant
25
Dear Internet:
My muse wanted me to tell you that she’s been rockin’ and rollin’ pretty heartily recently. She has knocked back some stiff drinks, tickled my brain with the naughty feather, and laughed in my ear. I have grinned, typed, and clickity clacked away at my keyboard, happily.
She also wants you to know that tonight, she’d love to help me out and provide some great content for you, however, she’s been struggling to keep her head above the muck inside the swirling vat of menstrual hormones that is MY ENTIRE BEING right now. Earlier, she was doing the drowning sign and gasping for air. I gave her the finger and told her to “fend, bitch” because I have my own shit to deal with, okay?
She is currently fleeing from my angry, rampaging uterus, which is running at her full force, prepared to bludgeon her to death with an engorged tampon. It has already threatened to create a hostage situation with a list of demands if it can capture her. That ho bettah run, because here at Casa SarcMom we do NOT negotiate with Effing Terrorists. Or Asshole Uteri.
In defense of the out-of-control uterus, it feels like a damn badger is gnawing on it, and just in case you’re wondering? NO. THAT DOES NOT FEEL GOOD. It feels… how do they say it? AbsofackinlutelyCraptastic.
So that great content? Uh… yeah.
Also? Who the hell authorized there being NO WINE IN MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW?
I might have to burn it down just to make a point.
I’m going to go punch myself in the uterus really hard (knock that damn badger loose) and then look for the matches.
Someone send booze.
If you see it, send it home to me.
Writer’s block – it sucks.
I avoid my computer,
distracted by life.
I just want to laugh
and play with my son all day,
take pictures, and live.
But even when I
sit here to talk to you I
can’t turn it back on.
The screen is too bright,
the keys are too hard; I just
want to walk away.
I’m missing something.
A light-hearted happiness
once possessed is gone.
Most days are now filled
with more laughter than sorrow.
But still, I’m searching.
I can’t find my Muse.
Always there before, but it
is taking a break.
I think it’s hiding
from the sudden crying spells
that keep creeping in.
I’m sure it will come
home again in time. until
then, I will struggle.
Even now I think,
“This is crap. I should not post.”
But it’s late. I’m tired.
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