Dear Birth Control,
I'm excited about being on you (which could actually be applied to many different things/people), but I am a stupid bitch for starting you the week before finals. As if I wouldn't be flipping my shit enough WITHOUT 203478234 extra gallons of estrogen coursing through my bloodstream; I cried myself to sleep 3 nights in a row this week over things like having a messy room and missing Private Practice on Wednesday night. I am emotionally drained and my eyeballs really hate you.
Much love, though, for protecting me from the evils of pregnancy,