Category Archives: TMI
Just got wind that Finn’s grandmother is planning on coming up AGAIN this weekend.
That’s seven weekends in a row, if you’re counting.
Let’s put this in prospective, shall we…
When she’s here, Finn and I are forbidden from sleeping in the same bed. Weekend nights are the only time we have together. He works nights Monday through Friday, and I’m usually asleep by the time he gets home. Z is here and awake during the day before Finn goes to work.
That means no sex. Barely any sex in seven fucking weeks. I’m irritated. I’m frustrated. I want my emotional and physical connection with Finn.
When she’s here, if I make something that doesn’t suit her taste, she complains to anyone that’ll listen.
When she’s here, if things aren’t **perfect** she’ll say snide remarks under her breath, and tell anyone that will listen.
I cannot fucking wait until we’re out of this house. I can’t deal with this anymore. I’m 33 fucking years old, and I’m tired of living my life according to someone else’s rules.
Lord help me this weekend.
((I am in major crankpot mode))
OMFG. Finn’s grandmother just showed up, for the third weekend in a row. Every time she’s here, she turns shit upside down. Seriously. Everything.
My cooking, our family activities, all of it. Finn and I aren’t even allowed to sleep in the same bed together when she’s here.
And guess what?
I’m PMSing like a bitch. FUN! My super-awesome PMS makes me all cuddly and horny as FUCK. Touch me. Touch me, NOW. Nope, can’t happen this weekend. Even more fucking annoying? Z is leaving to be with his father for two weeks.
Sooo… kid free weekend, me horny as fuuuck, and a guarantee of NO SEX? Yeah… I wanna fucking cry.
Every. Fucking. Time. She shows up on the weekend when I’m PMSing. No warning, she just shows up. This shit is getting old.
I just want my Finn cuddles. And to have him fuck my brains out.
((This post talks briefly about PMS and period symptoms. And sex. Nothing graphic.))
(Men, you have been warned.)
I’m due to start The Bitch on Wednesday, and my PMS symptoms are in full swing. No, I don’t become a raging bitch, I become a sweet, clingy, needy girl. Seriously. I just wanna be held and cuddled.
So, the other night, after extremely emotionally driven sex, I look at Finn and ask if we’re going to talk about babies within the next two years. I’ll hit advanced maternal age (35) on December 13, 2017.
His answer made me even more emotional…
Him: I was hoping for this year.
Me: I thought you wanted to be married first?
Him: Making a baby is different than having a baby.
Sooo… Finn wants to be married and/or have me knocked up this year.
This is it. It’s happening.
Again, it’s been awhile since this kind of post.
The combination of the prednisone and the pain from the pinched nerve has turned Scott from my sweet boyfriend to a cranky, distant grouch. It makes me wanna cry.
To be fair, I’m cranky, due to the hormones raging. My face is an oily mess, and I’m waiting for this period to be over. I told Scott this was going to be a bad one since last month’s was largely ignored, due to the flu. Cosmic Balance. I’m three days in, and still suffering day one cramps. Something’s gotta give. I try not to complain about the pain, because I know it’s nowhere near as bad as the pain Scott suffers from on a daily basis.
I’ve been cranky and distant because of his current attitude. I told him it was because of my period. He just left to run errands and told me to lay down and sleep it off, since I’ve been up since 0330.
I’m just missing my sweet, loving Scott. Can I have him back now?
I’m super excited about this weekend. Scott told me not to get drunk, I told him I’m not worried about getting drunk. I’d be happy to go bowling, as long as I’m out of the house.
So, here’s the thing…
At 54 years old, Scott’s sexy as hell. I know what you’re thinking… “You’re biased”.
Yeah… not so much. Every female is of the same general opinion. Add his sexiness to his extremely outgoing personality, and my self esteem tanks when we go out together.
It feels like every female in the place is thinking to herself: “Why is he with her?”
Let’s go ahead and get this out there (I sooo can’t believe I’m doing this): I’m 5’5 and 115lbs, my measurements are 34-24-38. See where this is going? Scott says I have an awesome stomach, amazing ass, and great legs. To which I reply “So, from the waist down, I have a perfect body?” He says we can fix that with silicone. O_O
I swear, I had a point…
Oh, my extremely obvious lack of boobage. Which I get made fun of for. A lot. It’s made me extremely self-conscious. I barely fill a 34A bra. I’ve got one helluva ass, but no boobs.
So, there it is… I’m all A and no T, while all those females that like to flirt with my super-sexy boyfriend are stacked. And I get jealous.
It’s an ugly, ugly thing.