Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Uber-Bitch

2004-06-28
This past weekend my PMS stole my body and replaced it with something that I do not understand. I am an emotional wreck. One giant ball of hormones. This seems worse than usual. Even J, once I promised him immunity, admitted that it seemed worse than usual. I cannot control myself. I don�t want to control myself. I enact elaborate charades so that only my friends and family know what is happening but occasionally have outbursts.

I have become that woman with the chocolate ring around her mouth, the one that circles the grocery store looking at everyone with distaste. That woman who is bloated and who frightens small children because even they notice that she seems to be measuring them to see if they fit in her oven.

In the past twenty-four hours I have had all of the following emotions:

Glee: (While eating cherries) Yay! We have cherries from the fruit stand! They are divine! Yay for cherries!

Mourning: (After eaten said two pounds of cherries) So sad. They are all gone. We will never have cherries again.

Anxiety: (While watching my clock click over to 9:01 last night) Why can�t I get to sleep? It is almost 9! If I do not sleep now than I will get less than seven hours of sleep. My whole week will be ruined. I will not be at my best. And everyone will know it. I will get fired. We will lose our house. And become homeless. And I will never get my haircut again!

Pity: (Upon seeing old woman board bus with large walking cast) Poor lady on the bus with the cast, I bet it is hard to walk in, and itchy.

Smugness: (After admiring my cute shoes) At least I don�t have an ugly cast.

Regret: (Realizing that this could be the moment that God was paying attention to) I am going to hell for silently mocking the cast lady. She probably broke her foot rescuing kittens from a tree. Orphaned kittens.

Annoyance: (While listening to co-worker kiss ass to other co-worker) Please do not shout �Those are SO CUTE. SO CUTE!� over and over. Once was more than enough you ass kissing fool.

Nausea: (After smelling strong-assed body spray applied by co-worker) Oh crap I am going to puke.

Anger: (After nearly throwing up in garbage can) Do you have to fucking BATHE in that shit? Wouldn�t you like to smell nice for a change?

Guilt: (After remembering I forgot to call my sister last night until it was too late) Shit! Please don�t hate me!!

Bliss: (After eating Kit-Kat bar) Best. Candy. Bar. Ever.

Rage: (While husband sits in car reading comic books after work) How can he just SIT OUT there while I am cleaning up dog shit and dealing with leaping pugs and God I just HATE HIM.

Rage 2: (While husband is out watering lawn) Why is he out there puttering after I made dinner and it is clearly ready? Does he not appreciate me? Seriously. Am I a goddamn SLAVE???

Happiness: (Telling my mother about evil husband) She is totally on my side.

Amused: (Listening to my mom tell a story while forgetting half of it) Man she doesn�t remember anything.

Fear: (After thinking she really doesn�t remember ANYTHING) What if it is early onset Alzheimer�s?

Anxiety 2: (After remembering that there is a strong genetic predisposition for early onset Alzheimer�s) What if I get Alzheimer�s? What if I get it when I am 35? What if J has to put me in a home? And we run out of money and the state forces him to divorce me or they won�t pay and I guess I won�t really know because I mean I won�t remember my name but I know that would just kill him. Or worse what if it didn�t kill him and he married some bimbo?

Exhaustion (After imagining this scenario): Come on Aunt Flo.

8:18 p.m. :: comment ::
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