Friday, August 7, 2009

What a horrible week!

Today during physiology class, we learnt about the female reproductive system, with its follicles and luteums in all its glory.

I'm sorry to say this, but am I glad I'm a guy!

I can't stand to have bodily fluids of assorted colours, clarity and VISCOSITY (OMG!!!!) coming out of me every month. I'm not masochistic. I just have a weak stomach.

Now, obviously menstruation follows a monthly cycle of... I dunno... 28 days? (Although if you think about it, you'll come short at the end of the year and have an extra cycle to boot! ARGH, DAMMIT!) And during this time, women will experience various cravings, mood swings and, if I may say so myself, preference.

But that is not the point.

The point I am trying to come to is the PMS, or pre-menstrual symptom that some (and I say that VERY LIGHTLY... IF NOT 'ALL') women experience. Oh, you'll know it when they come to. All the bitching, and/or flirting, sudden exhiliration and then deep depression. Rudeness, being obnoxious, less regard for people's feelings, feminism... THE LIST GOES ON!

My point is, guys do have that too. Again, I apologize, but yes, guys do experience some PMSyndrome, although in their case it's not 'PRE-MENSTRUAL' exactly, more like a mood swing, since men don't menstruate (that would be silly), but can be characterized in a somewhat similar fashion. You get my drift.

Which leads us back to where this post is going to.


Maybe it's hormones, maybe my bipolar disorder is acting up again. Basically I felt rotten, absolutely ROTTEN, I tell ya!

For the past five days, I have been trudging in to classes, so drained of life, feeling lethargic and anaemic (just a metaphor). Sometimes being quite rude to my friends, having no interest in lessons AT ALL, and just feeling sooooo tired.

I dunno. Maybe it's just a bad week. Or maybe.... a huge comet that would obliterate the entire human race is heading straight to earth, emitting radioactive frequencies so devastating all satellites are knocked out and oblivious to its presence. Only my highly tuned extra seventh sensory organ is sensitive enough to pick up the coment's vibes, and interpret the impending doom of Man.

But I beg to differ.

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