Anyway, I got up and went to bed, only to wake up two times in two hours to use the bathroom. My husband, who was up playing on the PS3, asked me if I was okay. Me getting up several times in a night to release the copious amounts of fluid my body enjoys holding on to (and torturing me with on the scale) isn't uncommon. What WAS bothering me was the fact that I got my period. I, very stupidly, don't keep very good records when it comes to my cycle because I had my tubes tied in 2001 (April 3rd to be exact- now THAT I can remember?!?). So now I'm in bed tossing and turning, wondering when I got it last, thinking I just had it like two weeks ago and something HAS to be wrong! In bed, in the dark, everything always seems worse than it actually is. The diagnosis' are coursing through my head and the anxiety is building...
I fought the urge to just get up and go on the computer. I was too lazy to go downstairs and get the book I'm reading (since reading in bed is always a sure-fire way to put me to sleep, no matter what I'm reading). I just continued to toss and turn and stew in my own self-inflicted madness.
Now that it's morning, even though I've had very little sleep, I can remember thinking "Thank God I didn't get it while I was in NYC for my makeover trip." That was the end of June. So I had it in the beginning of July, and my cycle is anywhere from 23-27 days, so I'm not dying. Do you think this will prompt me to write it down? Don't bet on it. I am excited to try this new thing I discovered called 'Smart Cup,' though. TMI?
So now you know why I just don't feel like running this morning. Maybe I'll bang it out on a treadmill at the gym later. Don't hold your breath.
|Just don't have it this minute.|