I did not hit 60 pounds this week. I lost nothing, in fact. I am pre-menstrual. 55 years old and pre-menstrual. I can't get my rings off. I drink hot green tea and lots of water and I can feel my back teeth floating since it all stays in.
While I know this is temporary, I am very, very cranky. I feel like Robert DeNiro in Raging Bull.
Just now, I went on strike. I quit my job as caretaker of the family midway through filling the dishwasher. The laundry is sitting in the new washing machine, waiting for someone to press the Start button. It won't be me.
The dry goods from the grocery store are in the bags in my car, waiting to be brought in and placed in their positions in the pantry. I won't be the one doing it.
Tonight, I am going to sulk.
I deserve this.
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