I feel like there’s a negative correlation between my level of PMS and my capacity with words.
Three years ago, some teenagers blah blah blah. It was embarrassing.
Two years ago, Violet doe-de-doe, and I was falling apart.
A year ago, I flirted with a guy, and he pfthppptht.
On a positive note, a reader commented the other day that she found the blog by googling “fat crossfitters”. I love that so, so much.
Happy Retrobloinky Friday, y’all.
