Because I am a hotter mess than anyone wearing hot pink, leopard print, spandex pants. Or I'm hot messier? Whatever. The fact remains that I really shouldn't talk.
I guess I've been more stressed out than I realized or would admit to myself. I mean, it's bad enough that Aunt Flo made a surprise visit just two weeks after she was last here (I don't think I like these birth control pills at all. But I suppose getting an extra visit is better than not getting any visits and having to worry I might be preggers?). But to make matters worse, I was crying during yoga tonight. Crying. Like, real tears dripping on the floor. I've welled up a number of times in yoga classes and even let a few tears leak out here and there, but I've never full-on cried in a yoga class.
Honestly, I'm amazed I managed to hold it all in for as long as I did. I was nearly crying on the way to work, when I was stuck in traffic and thought I was going to be late for my meeting. I was nearly crying during my training conference call where the people conducing my training this week were contradicting half the shit people told me the previous two weeks. I was nearly crying while I was trying to get my assignment done by 3:00. I was nearly crying when I told my brother I couldn't meet him for lunch because I couldn't take a lunch because I was too busy. I was nearly crying on my drive home, stuck in traffic and fighting the worst tension headache I've had in years. Probably since I was on migraine meds for my tension headaches.
On my way to yoga, I was trying to fight the tears and resorted to punching myself in the thigh and now I have a nice bruise to show for it. It was a little scary when I realized what I was doing. Normally, I'd dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand or the inside of my wrist or the back of my thigh (if it is accessible, of course). However, I'd just trimmed my nails down very short and I couldn't dig in nearly enough to make the pain distract me.
When I got into my car to leave Trader Joe's, though, I figured there wasn't much of a point in trying to hold back the tears. Well, except for the fact that it helps to be able to see while you're driving. But whatever. If I crashed, I crashed. Oddly enough, for the first time ever, crying actually made me feel a little better. I think maybe it released a little of the physical tension. Momentarily, anyway. The headache is back and I can't take anything for it because I already took a handful of ibuprofen this morning and I'll get (more) rebound headaches if I keep taking shit. So, I have to suffer. And drink wine. And sleep. Hopefully that will help.
Fuck, man. I need a weekend, stat. And I need a day off. Thank the Baby Jesus next week is a short one.