You may not be crazy, it could just be your hormones…

Are you suffering from any of the following:

1) Have your friends nicknamed you “Cray-Cray”?

2) Does your husband run for cover when you give the look?

3) Do your kids call you Mom-zilla?

4) If you died and went to Hell, would it take you a week to realize it?

Don’t worry! We won’t put you in a padded room. The answer is simple: check those hormones! Ever wonder why you crave chocolate when you’re PMS-ing or want to break a plate against the wall after you eat aforementioned chocolate? It’s all the hormones. And you don’t have to chalk it up to “getting older”.

“But Heather!” You say. “I just saw my doctor, and they give me some manufactured pill made from horse urine. DISGUSTING! And what about all this cancer talk?”

Well, now you’re overwhelmed and hormonal!

STOP! BREATHE! CALM DOWN! Compounding pharmacies are there to help.

Here’s an article I wrote on the hormone debate: Clearing Up the Hormone Debate

And don’t forget those vitamins: Vitamin E

Vitamin D — An Underrated Super Hero

As a child, “D” was the most feared letter of all the letters. A “D” on your math test meant no ice cream for a week. And that would pretty much be the end of the world. But “D” is not the enemy we all knew it to be back in middle school. As a supplement, it’s sort of a super hero! From the ability to fight off Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) to giving your immune system a kick in the rear, I think it’s high time we took a serious look at what the “D” can do for you: Vitamin D Newsletter

Sample from Heather Novak writing as K. S. Groben "Til Death and I Part" (full length edition)

Based on True Events.

Karma was a bitch. That kissed-your-first-boyfriend-at-homecoming kind. All I was guilty of today was a full-fat, blueberry muffin that I had crammed into my now gaping trap. I recycled, put coins into donation cups, and respected my elders. I was a decent person. Ten years of good deeds was apparently not enough to avoid Karma’s sweet revenge…in the form of a 6’ 4”, gray-eyed, chiseled bodied music teacher, who was also my ex-fiancé. Gavin.

Staring into those gray eyes, I forgot that I was standing in front of the last place I’d ever want to be – a music school. Thinking back on it, I probably should have skipped breakfast and reviewed the file sitting on my passenger seat. Or read at stop lights. Maybe glanced at the name on the contract while pumping gas. The possibilities here were endless. I was just the idiot who obviously wanted to get blindsided.

Gripping the doorframe of my car, I regretted my impractical shoe choice. How the heck was I going to gracefully negotiate a gravel driveway with numb feet shoved into five inch Steve Maddens? I was too sober for this. Give me a beer or two, and I could Riverdance in these shoes! Well, in my mind at least. At least my calves looked like steel.

Gavin’s eyes bored into mine. The years of making love and making music weighed heavily between us. But there was no forgiveness in his stare. Why was I even here? Oh yeah. Because I had $30,000 in medical bills and was a month behind on rent. And to top it all off, my boss Tony was trying find a reason to fire me. My nostrils flared thinking about this morning’s meeting.

So what if I woke up a little late and burnt my tongue on coffee. I didn’t deserve Tony’s, “Tim is too valuable to waste on some beatnick music school that won’t last the year anyway. And quite frankly, Miss Schultz, I’m not entirely sure your position here is still relevant,” bullshit.

I should have responded Office Space style – with a middle finger. However, the good employee in me nodded, grabbed the file, and hopped in my car. Suddenly, I was regretting my good ethics. I would rather eat a paper clip for lunch than face a music school. No doubt the paper clip would be more nutritious than what I was probably going to end up with anyway.

Tony was a bastard.

A crack of thunder broke my train of thought and brought me back to staring at Gavin. Construction on the building instantly ceased as large pellets of rain started attacking. And guess what color shirt I was wearing? Yep, white. White shirt and five inch heels. Should have stayed in bed…

** Look for more from K. S. Groben in 2013!