It happened last night. I had a frozen, WW pizza, peach and 100 calorie popcorn (with chalula sauce on top). Pretty good dinner, but my uterus was not satisfied. My uterus, lets call her Eugene, cause I hate saying uterus over and over. Anyways, Eugene gets mean once a week, every month. She sends me stabbing pains in my stomach, but she doesn't stop there. I must feed the monster.
Last night, Eugene wanted ice cream, fudge and peanut butter. I tried to tell her no. We ate enough food for a small village, but she didn't listen. Eugene took over. I was told it was a delicious massacre. After the ice cream carnage, I awoke to an empty bowl. All she left was a bit of fudge residue on the sides of the bowl. Dang it, Eugene. Get a hold of yourself!
Then, she got tired. I wanted to go work out. I had every intention to run and lift weights, but when Eugene wants something, Eugene gets it. She wanted to go to sleep. She wouldn't even let me watch Ace of Cakes, and I love that show. We fell asleep at 9 p.m. Eugene is a hot mess, and needs an intervention.