SOMETIMES I really hate living in Cyprus. I likely jinxed myself because I’d just been saying the other day how lucky I was to live on an island blessed with virtually 365 days of sun all year round, beautiful landscape (albeit brown and dry during the hottest months), easy access to the sea and mountains, honest people, great food, less stressful pace of life… And now today I’m in a pissy, filthy, I’m-going-to-smash-your-face-in-if-you-cross-me mood.
The reason is twofold: my ex and PMS. Or maybe that should be PMS and my ex. I’m hoping the PMS is affecting my mood. I’m pretty much convinced it is, because last night I was out with a couple of girlfriends and I wanted to bite their heads off and the poor things hadn’t even done anything. They were just getting on my nerves simply ‘because’.
A friend of mine once said you’d think that we’d be used to PMS by now because we get it every month. Ha, fat chance! Every four weeks, like clockwork, I go from sweetness and nice to mega bitch. The worst part is I don’t even realise I’m being a bitch. I’m just really irritable and aggressive. I get annoyed over the slightest thing and find myself snapping at people when there really is no need for it. Close friends and family especially are at risk of losing a front tooth.
The thing with PMS is that at times, like now, you get all wound up and moody and then within second you feel deflated and teary. It’s the most bizarre thing. That’s hormones for you. They’re all over the place. I think it’s what makes women so great and so complex. Men will tell you it’s what makes us so frustrating. I particularly hate the type of male moron who asks you if ‘it’s that time of the month’ simply because you’re in a bad mood. You just want to tell men like that to f*ck off, whether it’s that time of the month or not. Not every time a woman is having a ‘moment’ does it mean she’s getting her period. We have ‘moments’ because we are women and so our thought processes are far more convoluted and intriguing than your average man whose thoughts are rather basic: eat, shit and sex. Watching TV, having a beer and telling crappy jokes are other pastimes.
Today, I have to admit I am due and so I’m not in the best of form. The fact that my ex is shagging some skank is winding me up no end. A friend of mine pointed out that I hadn’t exactly been pining for him lately and had had my fair share of flirtations. The difference, I pointed out, was that I don’t lie about it.
My ex is an absolute liar and has tried to convince me that he hasn’t fancied, slept with or even snogged anyone else. Yeah right. He’s a man and there is no way he has kept his penis in his pants for the best part of two years. No way. Especially since the times we were intimate are few and far between.
What bugs me about the whole situation is the lying. It simply reminds me of why we broke up to begin with: his inability to tell the truth. Like the time he slept with that other skanky manky cow and told me he wasn’t sleeping with anyone. When I finally found out for a fact that he was having sex with her, he told me that it didn’t count because we’d broken up. I maintain we were on a break, not a break up. He said it was the same thing. WHATEVER. As you can see I still have issues with it. Or at least I do today because in five days’ time my period is due and come to think of it I really fancy some dark chocolate, which I left at home, and if my cleaner helps herself to some I’m going to clobber her…
A friend of mine tried – and failed – to convince me that my ex had no reason to lie to me and that if he said he wasn’t having sex with anyone else then he wasn’t. But unlike her, I know that he has every reason to lie to me and it’s got nothing to do with sparing my feelings. I think he knows that if I were to know for a fact that he’s sleeping with some skank, I’d never, ever, EVER sleep with him again. As long as I don’t know for sure, I can fool myself into believing that he’s still into me and that when we have sex nothing has changed.
Yeah, well that ship has sailed now bucko. I now know, without knowing for sure because unless I catch them physically in the act or someone tells me I can’t know, that he is shagging one of five skanks. What pisses me off is that they are the type of women you look at and think ‘biatch’. They are so up their own asses and pretty much go around with the word desperado tattooed across their foreheads. Normally, I’m into the sisterhood and that jargon about all women having an inner goddess, but today I am not in the mood to be magnanimous. Today I am annoyed and I want to tell my ex to f*ck himself and to give him a black eye.
I know that I have no right to be annoyed. I know I should even be happy for him. Then again, why the hell should I be happy when I saw him having dinner with five women last night? I know my ex. He doesn’t do ‘female friendship’. The whole time we were together he never had female friends. He’s a man’s man and can never be bothered having women friends. He’s not a telephone talker either and so no good to women who love to call up men for advice about their love lives. Therefore I know he’s having sex with one of them. I also suspect it’s the one with the 80s perm curl and highlights my grandmother wouldn’t be caught dead with.
To make things worse, the shmuck never hung out with me and my girlfriends because he didn’t do girly groups. Well, he was doing them last night alright, not to mention intimately eating chips off manky skank’s plate…
I’m actually surprised I got any sleep last night. All I can say is that I hope this is PMS, otherwise I’m going to start questioning whether I am as over my ex as I keep claiming to be….
