My tamoxifen-induced other personality, Tami, is no longer allowed to watch the Olympics. She's embarrassing.
What happens is not pretty, I'm not proud of it, and I have modern medicine to thank for this: she cries at everything. EVERYTHING.
Tami will cry when someone falls off the balance beam. FROM ANOTHER COUNTRY.
Tami will cry when someone qualifies for the quarterfinals in the 200M.
Tami will cry when someone medals in underwater basket weaving.
She'll cry for any and every reason, and some that don't even exist. She is starting to cost my unemployed ass a lot of money in facial tissue. INSIDER TRADING ALERT: Buy stock in Kleenex. Usage will dramatically increase over the next five years.
Tami cries during commercials. Maxi pads & tampons? You bet: Freedom from my period? I WANT THAT! Ahhhhhh booooo hooooo! I still don't have a period thank you to Tamoxifen, but I cry just the same, I mean come ON who doesn't want freedom from their period?
Anyone see that Nike commercial with that kid running along the road, talking about greatness? A freaking WATERFALL came out of my eyes. And nose. Blech. Why do we make runny boogers when we cry? WHY?!
Tami cries when little adorable cute as a button Bob Costas tells me we get to see a dramatic finish to some event "after the break." Tami doesn't WANT a break, she wants to see it NOW! So she can CRY!
Tami also tends to get her hot flashes in the evening hours. So that's fun, a giant crying puddle of a human with one hand holding a snot rag and the other one desperately trying to fan herself and remove a layer of clothing. HOT. And not in a good way.
I knew that I was in for some fun adventures, but this emotionally draining basket case of a woman who cries when her husband changes the channel, gets hot flashes and stuffs ice cold drinks in her cleavage is really starting to annoy me.
No comments:
Post a Comment