Saturday, May 5, 2007

PMS

Oh, it 's really getting me this time, because I already had so much on my mind for it to feed off of. The worst thing right now is my weight, it's going nowhere no matter what I do. When I work out it stays the same, when I don't work out lately it stays the same. Nothing changes. Grrr.

And it doesn't help any that I am not getting any help from anyone around me, and I think Fiance might be testing my resolve. Or he might just be that stupid, that he might forget that when you are struggling this hard to lose weight ... you don't eat much junk food. Duh. As angry and frustrated as I am about my weight, I woke up this morning when he got home from work, and he'd brought home donuts for breakfast. I can make them fit in my calories and stuff and they were only plain donuts sprinkled with cinnamon/sugar ... but still.

I'm not letting him stop this, I am losing this weight for me and if he doesn't want it for some whacked reason, then he can just kiss my soon-to-be-skinnier butt. So there.

And Teenybop isn't helping any, she's in rare form this morning and I was in a bad mood almost as soon as I opened my eyes. She has so far spent her morning either running up and down the hall shrieking, or standing next to me chattering away like a damn chipmunk.

Then there's my cousin, My "poor, abused" cousin. While I'm on the phone with her, sympathizing with her troubles, what I really want to do is shout, "You friggin' idiot. No wonder he treats you like crap! Every time he pulls out a new trick, you roll over and say, "come on, is that all you got?" You're asking for it, you even want another baby by this guy, come on you know better than that. He's thrown you through a wall, made you live in a condemned house with no plumbing while you were pregnant, made you live in nothing but different dumps in the four years you've been hung up on this loser. You've seen him arrested for theft, he's conned you into sex stuff that you ended up uncomfortable with, you've been in literal fistfights with him ... Get over this loser, stop telling me it's all your fault, and move on. Moron!"

And the worst thing is that I'm the only one she's got to run to, and if she runs to me I'm in a mess of hurt. Because it'll be her, her handicapped lazy-bum brother, and her somewhat undisciplined son moving in with me until they can get on their feet. Not to mention that the idiot boyfriend will most likely start causing trouble too. And then while she's working to make money to get her own place, I'll have to keep her sane and motivated to stay away from this guy, I'll have to keep up my household, prepare for more company, keep trying to lose weight, keep my sanity, take care of my own family, keep the son from influencing my daughter too far into thinking that if he can run his mom, she can try to run hers, keep the bum brother from wrecking my house and life and furniture since he's gross and he refuses to shower, and babysit both the brother and the son ... for free ... all day, every day.

Why do I get myself in this stuff? Who is the mean mean person who gave me the trait that makes you feel like you have to help and save everyone? I'd like to find that person, and "help" them to a broken nose. And then "save" them from worrying about it by mercilessly kicking the crap out of them until the nose is no longer the biggest worry.

I am so not in the mood for this today. I want to go back to bed, crawl under the covers, and hide until the monster that possesses me at PMS time goes away, back to the bloody hell he comes from. The prick.