I’m PMSing, y’all. Because that is obviously a topic of general interest, I have detailed various symptoms about my PMSing here and here and here.
This past weekend was not a weekend of moderation. On Saturday, I worked out for the third time in 2017 (yay, traveling! So much fun, except so much jet lag, and bloating and delicious but unhealthy foods). Of course, one hour of intense exercise with
Coach Dr. Booté warrants me eating ALL of the food ever, right? Recovery diet, and all that. Sunday: brunch with a friend, followed by supper at a resto with my Pops, and wine, and cider, and chocolate because TREAT YO’SELF ITS THE WEEKEND!
Yesterday, I woke up feeling bloated. I decided: New Monday, New Day, New Me. Imma go on a diet. All morning at work, this happened. Then, I had a business lunch with a key consultant, fancy stakehouse, and why not? Entrée, bigass meal, chocoholic dessert.
I was so bloated my nylons and underwear were cutting off circulation in my lower body. It was so uncomfortable, I considered going commando at the office, but I opted not to and suffer in almost-silence (I only updated my team about the status of my bloating every 15 minutes, including but not limited to such descriptions as “I’m as bloated as a cucumber!” “I’m never eating food again, I swear” “Being a woman suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks”), not because I felt it was scandalous, but because I felt that was the ultimate sign of defeat. I had to learn to live with my poor life choices.
I googled “death by water retention”.
Imagine my horror when, at dance class, I realized that of ALL the days… yesterday I had packed a crop top as my dance outfit.
I considered going home. #piorities
I didn’t bail on dance class. But I did sweat scary amounts, and turned the dance floor into a swimming pool. #sexy
Today, did I learn from my mistakes and eat healthily? HAHAHAHAHAHA no. I woke up craving a grilled cheese sandwich, and waited impatiently till noon to go and buy one for myself, which I scarfed down in approximately 34 seconds, and here I am sitting at my desk, debating if eating an entire chocolate bar counts as a serving of protein. I’m not sure, the science is out, but I’m thinking the answer to that legit question is “obviously”.