PMS, for many women, is never fun.
I'm lucky, though, because PMS for me means very little. In fact, the only symptom I do get is a craving for junk food that extends into an intense eating binge the night before my period starts. I usually reach for chocolate, cookies, or ice cream, but I've been known to push large amounts of fatty foods (cheese puffs, for example) into my mouth as well. Usually after I'm full, I sit back and smile. No feeling guilty about my once-a-month binge because, heck, eating that much makes me feel, psychologically, better.
This month, however, I can't reach for the baked goods and sugary foods I'm craving, because by golly, I gave them up for Lent. Doh! So for me, last night, I ambled around the kitchen with a look of complete scorn on my face. I grumbled and moaned as I peeked into the cabinets and closed them again, without extracting anything. I even went so far as to open the lid of the ice cream container just so I could get a whiff of the creamy dessert. What did I end up with? A couple of peanut butter crackers. Oh, the shame!
You can guess where this is going. Next year, I'm putting a clause in my Lenten promise: No desserts except for that time period where I'm suffering from PMS. If God is a woman, she'll understand.
I'm lucky, though, because PMS for me means very little. In fact, the only symptom I do get is a craving for junk food that extends into an intense eating binge the night before my period starts. I usually reach for chocolate, cookies, or ice cream, but I've been known to push large amounts of fatty foods (cheese puffs, for example) into my mouth as well. Usually after I'm full, I sit back and smile. No feeling guilty about my once-a-month binge because, heck, eating that much makes me feel, psychologically, better.
This month, however, I can't reach for the baked goods and sugary foods I'm craving, because by golly, I gave them up for Lent. Doh! So for me, last night, I ambled around the kitchen with a look of complete scorn on my face. I grumbled and moaned as I peeked into the cabinets and closed them again, without extracting anything. I even went so far as to open the lid of the ice cream container just so I could get a whiff of the creamy dessert. What did I end up with? A couple of peanut butter crackers. Oh, the shame!
You can guess where this is going. Next year, I'm putting a clause in my Lenten promise: No desserts except for that time period where I'm suffering from PMS. If God is a woman, she'll understand.
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