In the transparency of self-awareness, I have to admit I’ve been a little salty lately. Howbeevah, there’s a good reason for it, which my body has made perfectly clear.
Suffice it to say, if I find the heifer that used a hormone blow dart on my unsuspecting perimenopausal self, I will slap her and her estrogen spores to sleep. I’m low on Always and don’t have any Pringles or Little Debbies Turtle Brownies in the house.
I’ve narrowed it down to three heiferettes. I think it’s the one who’s been crying over nothing and eating Oreos in the breakroom. Well, her performance review is gonna suck. S-U-C-K suck.