Through Gritted Teeth

Today is one of those days where I doubt my unwavering happiness with being a member of the female persuasion. It is hard to feel confident and beautiful when all I want to do is curl up in the fetal position and mutter obscenities through gritted teeth. I suppose it makes me a stronger and more pain tolerant person in the long run but at the moment I am very tempted to use that pain tolerance to stab out my ovaries. I find it slightly ironic that the subject in my women's psychology class today was PMS. According to the survey my prof passed out I have premenstrual dysphoric disorder. You know, that new disorder that doctors prescribe Sarafem for, which they don't tell you is actually just prozac in a pretty new pink and purple capsule. I don't need prozac, I just need something to punch repeatedly, and maybe some chocolate. =)