If you are a male, particularly a male family member of mine, no need to read further – this post is for the ladies only, do you feel me girls? Amen!
Okay so for roughly 22 years now, I have a certain predictable event happen every month. You would think that by now, I would know the signs, be able to ward off unsuspecting town folk from the tyrant queen storming around the castle for the week. However, every month inevitably I find myself in tears, in a rage or inside of a bag of potato chips wondering “what is wrong with me? should I see someone for this?”
Then POOF, two days later a certain Aunt Flow shows up and I’m all “oh yeah, PMS!” What? How do I not know the signs by know?
Two decades of experience with this hormonal matter should tell me that when any of the following happen, it is time to check a calendar and lock myself in my bedroom for the near term:
- the intense desire to put frosting on any/all immobile objects
- the sudden belief that ANYONE driving in front of me is missing a temporal lobe
- the brilliant idea to part my hair on the other side (just for kicks) and then cry uncontrollably at monster that suddenly appeared in the mirror
- crazy ideas about new outfit pairings in my closet ( you know what I’m saying here….its the “hey what if I put this plaid jacket with these green pants that never really fit right when I bought them” scenario ) only to once again be reduced to tears when the monster in the mirror mocks me
- random explosions of emotion at my husband for not spending enough time with me that alternate evenly with angry “why don’t you just LEAVE ME ALONE FOR ONCE” statements
Any and all of these signs are harbingers of every girls monthly dilemma, it isn’t rocket science. So why does it catch me off guard every month? Will I ever learn? Maybe I should laminate the list above and put it on the refrigerator as a reminder, an intervention if you will.
I think that would be a great idea…up and until I am actually engaged in PMS and then I would read it, and promptly proclaim that the fridge just called me “fat.”
What’s a girl to do?
*UPDATE: Husband requested I change the title of this post, said it gives him bad mental images. I say…mission accomplished!
*UPDATE #2: New title – “Stop or I’ll Frost You”
*UPDATE #3: Did someone say frosting? That reminds me……Read More