The C-O-N-spiracy

My body is trying to kill me and apparently, I am acting as an accomplice.  76% of the time I am your average, run of the mill, modern day fool. I am the one who played softball not even 3 months after getting out of a cast when it took 2.5 months to find my fractured ankle; who planned to run a 5k two days after 5 days of partying in Sin City; who drove myself to the doctor in the middle of an asthma attack, oh and I quit my job without having another one in a recession…get the point yet?   Most of the ideas sound really good in my head – really they do, and then I talk to one of my friends and they ask me questions like… “Really? Did you think that was a good idea?” which lets me know that it wasn’t the smartest thing I’d done. That 24% of the time when I’m not a fool – I’m full on GENIUS! It’s crazy, how great I am. Too bad I wasn’t operating in the 24% this morning.

So generally about a week before that beautiful time of the month that solidifies my womanly stance – I start having random cravings and get a migraine. This month – I went to Miami the week before so all symptoms were masked by the contents of my sippy cup and exhaustion from partying too much. Symptoms masked – I came back from Miami and a week and a half of not working out and jumped back into it…on Wednesday and then again on Friday and not to be outdone by vacation; again on Saturday. By Sunday morning, I had lost the almost 7lbs I gained from not working out and going on vacation… not bad at all if I say so myself!

NOTE: the faint at heart should stop reading here…

Sunday began as usual – I woke up early in hopes to not have to rush in getting ready for church but still ended up running late. I’ll blame it on “her” showing up – and I wasn’t completely surprised but definitely not excited. We generally don’t have fun together – but this is the price I pay for the blessing of being able to bear children…right? I make it through church on a prayer and focused on praise… afterwards, I make a bee-line straight to my nearest CVS and eatery for some soup and salt craving. I feel like I’m going down but this is just lethargy like usual…right? Wrong. I get home, prepare to eat and relax because later on I’m going to spend time with my SFAM (sis from another mother).

My body had other plans… by 12:30pm I was in a fetal position on my sofa wondering where my mommy was and cursing Eve for biting the forbidden fruit. By 1pm, I felt like I had been hit by an 18-wheeler and stiletto fairy was doing a two step on my uterus. I managed to pop some pills and was passed out shortly their after. I woke up a couple of hours later – I think the pain pills wore off and mommy called for her normal Sunday check-in – and all I could do was pray and try not to cry. By 7pm hunger struck and I mustered up the strength to go the market because of course I have no food and even worse,  no ginger ale – MISTAKE. Now this is where you would think I would have learned my lesson and tapped out until I felt better right? Wrong again!

Monday is workout day – so I set my alarm clock for 4:45am with my back up 5am alarm. I just gotta – I have to be able to fit a dress for mini-me’s sweet 16 and exercise will make the cramps lighter – or so that’s the lie they told me. I wake up on time with no energy but if I can at least get up (physically just stand up) I can make it. I don’t know how I did it but by 5:16am I was leaving to work on loosing this toddler. It all went downhill from there. I told the trainer – cutie who meets the height, chocolate and employment requirements – that I had cramps…no masking it, no playing it down like my stomach just hurt but I’m sure as he tried to encourage me to rev up my squats that my head did a complete 360 while my eyes were rolling as I spewed the words at him. There goes the chance for that date. Later, while doing crunches, I’m pretty sure I started crying and if you paid me to do a plank for 10 seconds today I would be broke. I made it threw it though – thinking that it should be better now… wrong again. I go home and get ready for work (almost my last day) – only to discover in addition to the pain that I had on Sunday that it now hurts to turn my torso, talk, laugh, walk, blink, thinking about crying and even think about moving… with my last request being to please bury me in one of the dresses with the tags on it because apparently it was to die for!   

Okay – so I’m not really dying but my life hurts so bad L