Back on track

And I'm ready to go again. No more sadness. And it's happened instantly. Perhaps shopping helped of course, but I'm not quite as sure. I think I really suffer from horrible PMS and I don't even know it. Other females write the monthly thing down in their diary. I never do. Because I have never understood why, what makes it so important to write about. But I feel like a brand new girl, and really I thought I couldn't get lower than that. Mystery solved, simple as that. So I can write without falling apart and just looking at a blank screen which keeps being blank for hours on end. So it was quite a good day today. I just kept away from brother & co. That simple. At 35 I think that I have at least learned one thing in life, to keep myself away from hurting. I deserve that at least. It still hurts but what you gonna do? Keep thinking and thinking and hurting and hurting? So, there is a man who thinks I do not deserve respect because big equals no respect. He is probably not the only one. And then there are men who think I'm Lady Godiva. I've had men wanting to kiss my feet too, totally foot fetished. Then there are those who will kill for my cleavage. Good for them, I don't mind the blood and the gore. Some more think I have an intellect to die for, but there's no need to die for it because dead or alive it's still there. Yet more others think I have a heart which goes a long way, although I'm not sure all this smoking is making it a very healthy heart. And then, there are the little people which I had forgotten all about thanks to this hateful PMS. I forgot that they too have an opinion, and that opinion matters. I wish I'd thought of it before, yesterday or the day before. Oh well, better late than never....