Funny things hormones. Mine have a mind entirely of their own. Just this week they took themselves online and purchased an Owl dress. My sane mind has no need of an ornathological frock anymore than it needs the one with the stampede of horses that my oestrogen bought last year.
I need to take them in hand, they keep sneaking multiple bags of mini eggs into my grocery shopping. Honestly, they are worse than a toddler at a treat-laden supermarket checkout. They are always hungry, my hormones. They like sweet things or carbohydrates best. In cakes and biscuits they can combine the two in a way that makes them very happy, but my figure less so.
And the moods they inflict are worse than those displayed by the most troubled of teenagers. They whisper grumpily in my ear as I try to go about my day. Sometimes they even sneak out of my mouth when I am not paying proper attention, but mostly I can stare them down with my beady ‘I know what week of the month it is!’ glare and keep them confined to a dusty corner of my brain.
Right now one of them is kicking my womb with its steel capped boot. Bastard, but at least now it has moved onto physical abuse it has stopped its black mutterings for another month.
Still. On the plus side, turns out I agree with my hormones about the Owl dress, sometimes they have good taste. *munches happily on mini egg mountain*
Love Miss Cisco XXX