Seed Book

The estrogen death march continues as I wander around my house looking for something. What the fuck am I looking for?! I open the fridge. I walk back to my room. I go back to the fridge. Do I want cookies? Alcohol? Rice pudding? Popcorn? Maybe that was it. Maybe I came in here to get popcorn. No. I’m not even hungry. So what is it then? Am I tired? Am I lonely? Am I bored? What time is it? Shouldn’t I be doing something right now? Am I late for something? Do I need to be somewhere? What day is it? Where am I?

What’s wrong with me???!!!!
Blech. Damn you, you vile hearted menses.