Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

PMS, Not Just For Breakfast Anymore

Color me embarrassed. Had I known that Pamie was going to link me today I might have chosen something other than my work bathroom issues to write about. Its like cleaning up your house before company comes over--you don't really live this way but you want people to think that you do. So to all you Pamie folks, I am sorry. I may do good deeds like donate books to libraries. But I also write about bodily functions.

PMS has officially taken over my world. And I have done SOMETHING to piss off my uterus this month. I feel like PMS is a little alien that lives in my uterus and plots little ways to take over my body. Like Pinky and the Brain.

The plot is simple and effective. First, they ambush my skin with acne and bloat my entire body so that I will be as unattractive as humanly possible. Then, to ensure that I will be fat, only crave sugar and grease. If you can satisfy both of these cravings at once it is best. OOOOOHHHH french fries dipped in chocolate milkshake. That is another thing--PMS makes you easily distracted, he does not want you to accomplish anything. He also attacks your mood--hoping to give you as many different ones as possible. All of this takes a lot of energy so you eat some more and feel cold.

I imagine PMS is a little monster with large hands that he rubs together with a homicidal little laugh.

My evil twin Monica and I are PMSing at the same time. Our husbands tremble with fear with this one, because we will just feed off of each other. Nothing enables you to be unreasonable like your friend shouting, "WHAT?! He left a plate on the countertop? I would club him over the head with it and make him eat dog shit!" That is the problem with all-female offices though. Eventually, you all end up having your periods at the same time. Imagine that. Nine high-strung women with PMS.

No wonder we have three men in our department. And they stay locked in their offices.

Monica and I were competing in the Miss Judgemental Bitch of America contest this afternoon. I think I pulled away with the final blow, I went on a rant for ten minutes about newsboy caps and how over them I was. Then I decided that maybe a co-worker was wearing them to hide her devil horns.

Monica secured 1st runner up (and taking over for Miss JBA if she suddenly becomes pleasant through an act of God) by making snide comments about a co-worker's sex life.

I hope we will be back to normal on Monday.

Buster just snored so loud he scared himself awake.

Better go make sure he didn't piss the carpet.

5:27 p.m. :: comment ::
prev :: next