If I say it, I'll do it.

(let's be glad that doesn't apply to EVERYTHING I say.)

I'm SO frustrated right now. It HAS to be PMS. There is no good reason for me to be hating my body like a girl right now. I usually don't care. I'm fine. Whatever. I had babies and am formerly eating disordered. I'm never going to pay for a personal trainer to whoop me back onto prebaby shape, and if I had the money, I still wouldn't. I seriously don't care that much. I'll be in a swimsuit this summer, shorts, dresses, skirts. I honestly don't CARE.
But right now, I do. So we'll call it PMS. I did half my run and I'm pissed because my head is cycling through lovely fantasies and then RUN FASTER! GO FURTHER THIS ONE TIME. I catch myself and go back to my dreamy dreams and then WHAM! Go faster. I get mad so I walk for a few minutes to get a grip and go back to Floaty Land Where All Is Really, Really Good...and run again and WHACK, it slaps me upside the head (HONK!) and UGH I finally got off of there. I called my stand in personal trainer, who is also irritating me- he actually got CRABBY at me over his brother when I told him Shawn asked for help getting his house ready for the pictures on Wed when it goes on the market. "You struggle so much with him, and then you let him ask a woman to clean his house and you DO IT?" I told him he's paying me. PLUS I'll get to see the kick ass eagle nest before the leaves hide it. He must have PMS too, but only one of us can be a bitch at a time.
So I'm here to tell you that I have every intention of ending this post and getting my fricken ass back on the treadmill and letting my imagination take me away from what I'm actually doing and I'm going to run another 1.5 and then I can be a bitch on the couch all I want, all by myself. Right? I'm yelling naughty words in my head right now. Fighting myself is super annoying and the fact that there is just no one else here to help my head either way just pisses me off more.
See? TOTAL PMS.
Fuck.
Sorry.
Okay, here I go. I'm so growly. :(