I was either going to put in a two-line entry mentioning that I was sparing you all from my best displays of bitchiness, or not write at all. But I have just gotten home and read Tamago's latest entry, which is in rhyme, and I now have to mention that I have the best friends. They make me giggle.
Fortunately, the bloat, bitchiness, persistent cramps, and so forth are all transitory in nature -- but they're recurrently transient, and I sometimes think that's the biggest misfeature of all. But when Tamago suggested, earlier today, that we just retire to a nice menstruation hut, I couldn't see a single thing wrong with the idea.
My friends ask good questions, too, but you'll all have to wait for answers until I've slept and am in a more introspective frame of mind.
I got to spend Tuesday night with my sweetie, Yohannon (and if he doesn't like being mentioned by that name, I'll come back and edit it all). Now, this man has many fine qualities, which will surely crop up in further conversation, but one that definitely stands out on first meeting him is his ADD, which mostly shows up as a remarkable talent as a raconteur (give him a topic and he's off).
We met up for dinner on Tuesday night after I had beaten my stack of errands to death with a stick (yes, you will all be thrilled, I'm sure, to know that I survived my latest trailer experience despite having to hitch solo and turn it around twice). Neither of us had had the best day, and we were both vibrating in nearly the audible range, and the staff at his favorite restaurant were being unexpectedly run off their feet, so we were both on the cranky edge of unfed to boot.
And yet. And yet.
Just being in his presence relaxes me. We talked and drank water and talked and held hands and talked and ate when they finally got around to bringing us food, and by the time we were ready to leave, I actually felt like a passable human being again.
Which is only one of the reasons I love this man. (The sex is terrific, too, but I can't do that justice tonight, either.)