I am in a funk of a mood. I believe my hormones are toying with me which, ultimately, ends up making the rest of the world suffer. I called my doctor on Monday about my "pills" and mentioned how it can sometimes make me a bit moody (kinda funny, huh?) and I tend to get horrible raging migraines. Well, it has also made my skin look better than it ever has...ever. Because of that, my doctor decided changing my pills was not an option as I have changed so many times, I have probably tried them all at least twice in my life. I have to toughen up when I get my headaches and just keep telling Mike "nothing is wrong" when he asks. I guess if I just stare in the mirror and admire my new skin, the pain pulsating through my head and eyes and my need to want to kick mud in the faces of those I love should dissipate. Mind you, I am not knocking my doctor for suggesting we leave well enough alone, because she has worked with me and my pill situation for 10 years. Enough is enough.
On a side note, I'd like send a shout out to my husband and daughter who always know when I'm not myself and know to give me hugs and kisses at the right time. However, the squeezing of my boob isn't going to get the effect my husband is looking for when I'm in one of these moods. He usually gets the rolling of my eyes or some name calling like, "raper." My boobies should be considered off limits whenever he sees the scowl on my face.