She told me that her dad was loaded/I said 'in that case I'll have a rum and/Coca-Cola'

Well, good God did today suck. I've only recently started suffering what I will refer to as "woman-pain," and if this is because of my feelings on God or anything else for that matter, I hope the relevant parties be advised that I will gladly change my mind.

As the other instances of woman-pain had only, luckily, occurred during hours in which I did not have class, I'd put off attempting to do anything about the woman-pain. Now, however, that I have a steady job, there is a greater chance that the w-p will coincide with the work, and today it did.

This meant that for much of the morning I was experiencing some discomfort and cursing most of the people around me, privately, to death. Had I stopped to think about it, I would have remembered that the slope of pain I was sliding down ended horribly, but I was determined to get through the workday.

But I did not. I went from working to sitting in the back room with my head down to moving in a haze of endorphins down to the basement bathroom to vomiting in the basement bathroom and then curling up on the floor, humming, and counting, rhythmically and while rocking back and forth, to five hundred and fifty. My god the pain. I came close this time to blacking out, which I was hoping for, because that would have meant a lack of conscious experience of the pain. But I didn't, probably because I had no idea when I'd wake up, and at that point was locked in the bathroom. I think it would have freaked my coworkers out if they'd come to find me and I didn't answer their calls.