Trashed and Scattered

About a month ago, I ran out of birth control pills. About two months ago, strapped for cash, I decided to let my prescription lapse…I could either eat, or I could get pills. A) I need food, and B) I’m getting laid so infrequently that this is not a huge issue. There are these fancy things called condoms, what a brilliant idea!

Except I’ve been on the pill fairly regularly since I was 17. I turn 29 in some months. I also take (took) some strong-ass pills, and I took them pretty much year round (I had three or four periods a year).

I’d forgotten what life un-hormoned is like. First of all, if you had contact with me last week and I acted like a drooling idiot, it’s because I was missing half the blood in my body. But what really hit me the hardest was the emotions. Friday night I flaked on plans I’d made, stayed in, downed a bottle of wine, read a book, and felt generally cool with life.

Saturday morning I woke up sobbing, and did not get out of bed until 4PM (okay, I did get up to pee). FOUR PEE EM. At which point I had a small freakout and had to get out of the house just to smoke and drive around aimlessly. On my way back to my apartment, dreading more crying and more bed, I texted a Corrine. Five minutes later I was tromping over to her place, where marathon movie viewing ensued.

Sunday I woke up to another text, proposing more movies and grease covered food. Oh, and I took a trip to the used bookstore on the way.

Am feeling marginally better now, with a belly full of grease and a few more movies under my belt. Might pick up strong-ass pill prescription this afternoon.