A Jumbled mess

In which the title says it all....



For about a week, a little less, I have been kind of bitchy for no known (to me) reason. I thought maybe it's because I moved and I, for some reason, am feeling all emotional about being back in the place I spent the best and worst times of my adolescence. Thought maybe it's stress. Maybe, it's because I have worked almost 2 years, consecutively, without a vacation. Seriously, not more then 3 days off in a row in 2 years. I think I have only called in a total of like 4 days. I know I desperately need a vacation. That is fact. But I have to wait until August. It's a long story of an explanation I do not want to go into now. I thought maybe it was combination of all of the previously mentioned reasons. But. I. Was. Wrong.

You see. I got a new neighbor almost a week ago. Or my ovary got a new neighbor. Maybe neighbor isn't a good word. Parasite doesn't fit either. Growth... Not really. It's a "functional" cyst. With no real function what-so-whatever, I might add. Apparently, the reason I felt or feel pain, is because it is twisting the ovary. Fun right!? My point... they gave me birth control, of all things. Let's clear something up. I do not need birth control.
A. I am 34 years old.
B. I'm fairly certain my eggs are all dried up.
and....
C. One must be having actual sex in order to get pregnant.


However, something about the hormones in "the pill" is supposed to make the cyst go away. Often times, they come and go with the incubator never aware of their existence. If it doesn't go away. I will have to have surgery. Either removing the cyst or the ovary and the cyst. Crossing my fingers that it goes away.

I am irritable. Tired, exhausted really. A emotional train wreck. Back to the reason I am in a funk. Hormones. With a capitol HOR. (phonetics people!!) Moral of this "Aha moment" brought to you through my glorious, ranting, rationalization is: I need to stop taking hormones. They are bad. bad. bad. I get a tad psychotic! Reminiscent of pregnancy. Soon, I will be running full speed down the hallway to hurdle the coach so I can tackle you because you ate the last fudge pop! Not a good scene. That's all I'm saying.