Oh nooooooooooooo, Jacqui made a big mistake and forgot to start up her birth control pills again last Sunday. Boo. That means I missed two days and there is a small likelihood that I could get pregnant if I have sex, and I realllllly want to have sex. I want to have sex so badly that I woke up having an orgasm. But that's another story.
I just hate taking those fake sugar pills for the week that I don't have to take anything. I think, Oh no, not me, I don't need to take those fake pills that all the other women on the planet take. I'm sooo special I'll just remember when I'm supposed to start up again, argh, me, so frustrating. It's so silly too because my distorted reasoning is, I hate having to take something unhealthy, (sugar) when I'm not even getting any kind of illicit pleasure out of it. Come on me, I eat so much more bad-for-me crap in one hour, than there could possibly be in an entire week of those little inert pills.
Dr. Phil day on Oprah. "A race horse has gotta run." "Self matters." "You cannot give away what you do not have." Okay, I'll get the book, but man, you'd better be on the level Mr. Phil, or someone is going to find a gang of very angry, torch bearing, female villagers in his front yard someday.
