Dear diary,
It is the time of the month again when my body betrays me and my brain becomes a hormonal warzone. Today’s aftermath: my patience, my will to live, and any remaining hope that I am a rational human being.
When my uncle (dad’s side) came to visit, I swear it felt like he was here for decades, even though my uncle and his wife stayed for two hours only. Two hours of trying to act like a normal human being while inside I’m screaming “MAKE IT STOP.”
Then we went grocery shopping with my aunt (mom’s side) and cousins. Normally, I’m all about it. I love strolling through aisles, scrutinizing the latest products, pretending I need things I’ll never use. But today? Today, I just wanted to grab my groceries, throw them in the cart, and get the hell back to my aunt's house. It felt like a race against time, and I lost.
And let’s not even talk about my personality transformation at this time of month. I become a human firecracker—just one tiny spark away from a full-blown explosion. It’s almost impressive, really.
Take today, for example: I texted some university classmates a friendly hello, and crickets. Absolute radio silence. And the kicker? One of them actually messaged me a month ago, so in my head, I was like, "Ah, yes, the sacred ritual of reciprocal niceties!" But nope—turns out, I’m the only one keeping score in this one-sided game of social etiquette. Cue the world’s smallest violin playing just for me.
Logically, I know it’s ridiculous to care. But emotionally? It’s a full-on tragedy. My brain’s like, "This is betrayal. This is war." And the worst part? I know, I know. It's completely insane to get upset over that and here I am, stewing in my own hormonal soup! But when has self-awareness ever stopped a meltdown?
My mom always says I turn a small spark into a blazing fire, and I mean, she’s not wrong. It's just that the fire is burning right now, and I’m watching it like it’s my only source of warmth.
So, here I am. Again. Waiting for the madness to pass.
Well look who’s moved from hormonal supervillain to mildly annoyed civilian.
Was it the sugar? The family bonding time? The sheer power of pistachio ice cream? The world may never know.
I’m a huge sweet tooth, so naturally, my sister and I dove into some pistachio ice cream. And yes, it’s part of that Dubai chocolate pistachio trend. I usually scoff at trends, but when my sister wants to try something new, I’m all in—because who doesn’t love bonding over dessert?
But wait, there's more. Before we had our trendy ice cream, my uncle brought some baklava, and naturally, I ate way more than I should’ve and paired it with some tea. Suddenly - miracle of miracles - my will to live returned. Coincidence? Or just proof that sugar runs my emotional life?
Then, we huddled around my laptop to watch Arcane. You might be wondering where my aunt was during this late-night debauchery. Well, she’s the early bird type. She is out cold by 1:00 AM, maybe 2:00 AM if she’s feeling wild.
Meanwhile, my sister, cousin, and I are up until 3:00 or 4:00 AM, because I love spending time with my sister and cousin.
Listen, I’m philosophically opposed to staying up late—my soul belongs to the 6:30 AM gang. And feeling like the day is longer and more productive when you wake up at 6:30 AM and conquer the world before breakfast. But my traitorous brain does not pull all-nighters, it conducts them. Like a maestro of poor decisions.
The only downside? My internal thermostat has completely abandoned me. The AC is blasting but I feel like I’m auditioning for a role in a sauna commercial. Seriously, I might as well be a human torch!