Why Estrogen is horrible.

Hello blogosphere (is that even a word?).
I'm here today to tell you all about the horrible effects of Estrogen. That hormone that, at least in my cycle, tends to show up the week before or the week of Shark week(code talk for period).
It's way of making me cry for absolutely no reason except that it's coursing through my veins at an accelerated rate is not only mind boggling, it's dangerous.
Most women are full of estrogen all the time and they're cool with that. Me? I have a good amount of estrogen, hopefully within normal range, but I'm not into baby pink things or fluffy shirts and stuffed animals. I'm just not that kind of girl. I'm also not on the other side of the scale of womanhood where skimpy outfits and heels that make you look like a skanky supermodel are the norm. I'm a bookish, computerish, casually dabbles in makeup and day dresses, but usually wears jeans and a t-shirt she got at youth camp or in college type of girl.
There's this once a month fiasco that comes along and ruins me brick by brick. I'll be shopping and all of the sudden instead of being in the book section, I'll be intrigued by the magazines across the aisle... Instead of my girl power rock music I'll browse the pop music section of iTunes... I even sometimes get the sudden urge to bleach my hair to a platinum blonde. It's like I become a completely different person, and it's horrible. I wish I could make it stop. but I can't.
It's like... a Cinderella spell gone horribly wrong. Instead of it being over by midnight, it takes 5-7 days to get over. My fairy godmother sucks.
Couple the estrogen with my extroversion, and instead of the Independent "Wanna hang out later" person I usually am", you get the, dependent "PLEASE HANG OUT WITH ME I'M SO LONELY" person. I'm honestly not okay with this. I try really hard not to be/appear lonely... even though if I'm not around people I'm usually feeling lonely... So when that once a month train rolls into town, I feel desperate, conflicted, and  there's a lot of self loathing involved.
Afterward it's like the last episode in a season of survivor. Where everyone's so pretty and polished and you're just like "Is Ruben wearing a suit?" and oddly... everyone's okay with it... It's feels like what I imagine people feel like after being released from jail. "I'm free!"
Moral of the story? Being on your period is like being jailed away from happiness.