I am tired of having red hair. Later this month, I will be returning to black. I will probably get tired of that soon enough and go back to red, but in the meantime I am mousy and disapproving.
Also, I am hormonal. I’ve been sitting at my desk for about two hours, completely enveloped in a white paper bucket of sad – for absolutely no reason. I am blue and melancholy. I am knee-deep in funk. I am wallowing in drama that does not exist. Even though I am lending credence to Ed’s theory that I often complain about having nothing to complain about, I am in fact sad that I am sad. Since that is obviously not anything a normal person would do – yes, I know I’m not the poster child for normal, but still – it must be hormones. I am pre-menstrual. Bring on the ice cream!
As much as I would like for this funk to disappear so I can go back to being jolly, it is in some small way a welcome sign of things to come. You see, last weekend I experienced .. things. Odd things, happening to my person. Since there was no logical reason for the nausea, vertigo, cravings or huge mood swings, I automatically self-diagnosed myself a pregnancy. To say “umm, oops” is but a drop in Understatement Ocean – but there was nothing else I could find that would fit. It didn’t help that over the course of my many accidents and injuries, I had been less than mechanical about taking my anti-baby medication. In fact, I fucked off probably close to a week’s worth of estrogen, skipped and then made up doses at random points during the week, and had unprotected sex with thousands of men, women and monsters with penis-like tentacles. All of this just added to my “Whoops, Baby” theory – it’s not just me being paranoid and overdramatic, it’s grounded in unlikely-but-still-possible truth. My current funk, delightful acne, and general all-around bloatie, mood-swingie self makes me think that perhaps the Festival of Menstruation will take place as planned. Ultimately, that would be a good thing. I’d just like to stop being sad, is all.
So! Who wants to cheer me up?
delicious juice dot com 
Me! ME! I Wanna Cheer You Up!!!! Ok….
A woman had twins, and gave them up for adoption at birth. One of the twins went to a family in Egypt, and was named “Amal.” The other twin went to a family in Spain, and they named him “Juan.”
Years later, Juan sent a picture of himself to his birth mother. Upon receiving the picture, she told her husband that she wished she also had a picture of Amal.
Her husband responded, “But they are twins. If you’ve seen Juan, you’ve seen Amal.”
If you have a tentacle-baby then you can sell it to a circus for tens of thousands of dollars and also sell your story to the National Inquirer: “I mothered a tentacle-baby!” for tens of thousands of dollars and then you will have 2x tens of thousands of dollars! Also, if you do have a tentacle-baby, name it after me, that’d be cool. Anyway, that cheer you up? Just thing: YOU’LL BE RICH!
See I think they need to come up with some sort of reversible vasectomy system and then you have it installed at birth where it stays till you are a grown adult and ready to toss you life out the window by having children, then you have it uninstalled. Think of the money we could save in false pregnancy scares, the reduction in stress would be worth it! Alas, when I am in charge that will be top priority!