HELLO my name is: LOVE/HATE RELATIONSHIP

I was in our supply room today, getting a notepad, highlighter and pens for my new employee, and I came accross some HELLO my name is, stickers.

OH THE FUN.

I cut one up, and put it over top of the nameplate they gave me for my office. HELLO my name is PAMELA NEWMAN.

Awesome!

I took one, wrote kirsten's name on it and stuck it on her chair. I will find more interesting uses for the rest of them. I might stick one somewhere in John's office, and write jackass on it. He's a salesperson who constantally insults the editorial girls. They're all a bunch of wusses, because I don't take his shit.

I was ragging all weekend, and still am today.

I have a serious love hate relationship. I'm not talking about frank and I. I do love him, and occasionally tell him how much I hate him, but he brings it upon himself, HA. I mean, would you tell a girl breathing the flames of PMS that she was somehow stupid? No. It's okay though, he's a charming rascal, and I love him even when he's inferring retarded male jokes about my inteleigence... why? Because once I'm done raggin' I get my common sense back.

He's a sweetie, and I don't really hate him. I do, however, get mad at him sometimes, as I'm sure he gets mad at me too.

Anyway, the love hate relationship is between me and my period. I love that it lets me know that I'm not pregnant every month, but the motherfucker is an abusive, emotionally traumatizing, physical burdon that occasionally embarrasses the hell out of me, and makes me feel like a fucking disgusting human being.

See? Love/Hate.

I want to find a clean, un-emotional way to know that I'm not pregnant, monthly, without the blood-gushing.

It's just so fucking disgusting.

Especially this month. (warning, tmi coming up, I repeat TMI coming up)

I think I may have bled heavier this week than I ever had before, and I've had abortions. SO GROSS!

Oh my god, I bled through pads this month, to the dismay of one cloth interior. I am so disgusted and embarrased, and eeewwww, dude. Ew.

I hope there's nothing wrong with me, but then again, shit's been wrong with me all year, and it's only march. Hopefully this mild health problem trend will end shortly, because I already owe money to my dentists. I don't need to owe any more.

Ugh, I'm going to go home and take a damn shower. I feel gross.

Later,

pam