whine, whine, whine.

PMS hits me in the most stereotypical way - four days of crying fits and an increase in my bitchiness level (an 8 to a 9). At college I spare everyone by turning off my phone and locking myself in my room, but at home there’s no escape from my siblings.

I’ve all ready yelled at my sister for not asking if I wanted a PB&J sandwich and started weeping when my 2 year old niece whispered “I lub you.” I’m so sick of myself. I’ve considered taking testoterone and getting a phalloplasty.

Unfortunately, this parade of erratic hormones lasts for three, long days and then Auntie Flo will come and use my ovaries as speed bags.

I also need to get laid.