PMS: Pretty Much Screwed

It’s approaching mid-October, time for another episode of Emotions Gone Wild which airs monthly and features my emotions jumping hurdles the size of Mt. Everest at a speed of Mach 10. Time for my good judgment to hang by an exceedingly frayed noose. Time for Nate to wise up, give me a wide birth and not blink too loudly unless he actually enjoys the sensation of having his testicles ripped off and super glued to his neck.

I should avoid making major decisions during these episodes because otherwise, it’s entirely possible that my next blog post will be from my car, having suddenly found myself homeless after painting my house neon fuchsia pink and selling it cheap to the Mormons who knocked on the front door earlier, all because they were dressed neatly, gave me cookies and promised to put in a good word for me with The Big Guy.

I could swear, quite loudly for that matter, to the physical manifestations of PMS because once a month for years on end, my stomach would become so distended so as to enter a room a full ten seconds before dragging the rest of me in after it like a sack of gravity. But I never subscribed to the theory of emotional PMS. Becoming so overwrought to the point of choking the life out of the hostess because someone scarfed up the last M&M at bunco? Not likely. Essentially, my thoughts on the subject were more along the lines of, life goes on in all its bloated glory, ladies. SUCK IT UP AND DEAL.

Then I hit forty and threatened to disembowel my husband after he switched The Real Housewives of New York to Man vs. Wild.

Even then, I was still skeptical. I mean, it’s not like I would have really used the hatchet. I have the arm strength of Gumby so it was all I could do to wave it back and forth a few times before dropping it to the ground and unwittingly slicing off his little toe.

But then I started to notice other things, like how I’d become so emotionally vested in the sucky life of the curly haired guy in the freecreditreport.com commercials. I even wrote a letter to his mother and demanded to know how she could abandon her own flesh and blood and let him drive around in a Gremlin?

Or how I’d burst into tears whenever it was cloudy or the dryer buzzed or a squirrel ran across our driveway in search of a nut or we ran out of spaghetti.

Or how quickly I’d get miffed because, after trekking through sleet and slush ten feet to return my shopping cart, the employee who was busy gathering up the rest of the 547 shopping carts strewn across a parking lot the size of a football field didn’t immediately rush right over to shake my hand and pin a medal on my chest.

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(pissing) Who the hell does he think he is, the miserable little shit?

(moaning) He doesn’t like me. That’s it.

(complaining) He hates me.

(sobbing) *sniff* He thinks I’m ugly.  *sniff*  Oh my God, I’m ugly. I’m horrid.  *sniff*  I’m an abomination. Shoot me and put everyone out of their misery.

(wailing) God, why are humans so mean? Why is life so miserably hard?

(wailing louder) Why do people … oh!

(beaming) Hi! Oh, it was no problem! Easy peasy! You’ve very welcome!

(sobbing) *sniff*  He is so sweet. Just the nicest thing.  *sniff*  His mom would be so proud. Zoe should date him.

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It was only when I tackled Nate in the kitchen and sat on his head while shrieking I AM NOT AN ANIMAL! I AM A HUMAN BEING because he greeted me at the door with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, that I knew PMS was not a condition invented long ago by men who needed a reason to get out of the house or by women who needed a reason to get out of sex.

And after I had a psychotic break on I490 whereupon I slammed on the brakes, screeched over to the shoulder and used my eyebrow tweezers to dismantle my Honda piece by piece, thereby ensuring that never again would I have to sit through John Tesh offering me intelligence for my life through my car radio, I knew in my heart that for the remainder of my natural life, I was going to have to put aside three or four days a month and not interact with humans or operate heavy machinery or motor vehicles.

I’m hoping to be back to normal by tomorrow. I’m sure Nate and the girls are as well. I’d ask them but last I knew, they were busy hiding in the basement and taking quiet, shallow breaths.

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45 thoughts on “PMS: Pretty Much Screwed”

  1. Ya know… I so hear you. I in fact NEVER had PMS symptoms. Like I’d wake up and say oops. And now? Well, chemistry can be regulated juuuuuust enough so that I can bite my tongue. But that’s about as far as that goes… *sigh*

  2. First, let me say…I’m so glad I’m not the only one who thinks John Tesh needs to just SHUT UP. Even when I’m not PMS’ing. Go away John Tesh!

    Okay, next. PMS sucks and I hate that as I get close to menopause, I have less and less ability to a) see it coming and b) take any kind of control over it. If I could see it coming, I could at least warn the family. The fact I can go from weeping to screaming in .08 seconds flat is enough to make me want to admit myself to the local psych ward once a month.

  3. I have my PMS moments. They don’t happen every cycle though and since I went to an IUD I never know when or if I am going to have a cycle so I am left wondering if I am all pissy because of PMS or if the people around me really are being a-holes lately

  4. omg! you described it perfectly. snort. i must say that after you blow by all the MENOPAUSE crap it does get better slightly because all you have to deal with is the weight gain, if you practice your klegals on a reg basis incontinence should be a breeze. have you noticed anything that affects us in a total severe way has the word MEN in it. i bet you go do a riff on that that would make me wet my pants. bwahahaha!

  5. i hear ya. so bloated right now i could float in the ocean for four days no problem. hope tomorrow is better for you…i have a friend that swears by that midol pms, says it helps her emotionally too. i stick to wine but whatever works…here’s to tomorrow.

  6. OMG, the statement about Nate wearing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes had me spitting my juice out my nose! That’s hysterical! PMS totally sucks….big time.

  7. This is why I’m so very thankful for the depo shot. My PMS was so bad my husband’s breathing would make me want to rip off his head and spit down his neck. That was before we had kids. I can’t imagine adding 2 young boys to that ugly mix of hormones.

  8. I thought pms was bs until I hit 37. Thesedays I should be locked in a cage with boxes of Ho-ho’s, tissues, and a case of Diet Dr Pepper until Aunt Flo gets out of town.

  9. I hit early menopause a couple of years ago, so PMS is a memory now, thank God. Now I just have to deal with fun stuff like the wild hairs sticking out of my chin, and the fact that my hair has morphed into something alien and now looks like a wig…

  10. I entirely HATE PMS. My whole family has hit early menopause and I am REALLY hoping to hit the streak on it. Although I know that won’t be an easy road, I’ve actually had 2 surgeries for painful periods and take meds every month to “curve” some of the cramping… and they last a FULL 7 days… NO THANKS! Bring on the hot flashes and night sweats. I can deal with being nakkid all day!

  11. I am a PMS cryer….just the littlest thing will set me off. My girls were making fun of me for weeping during Golden Girls reruns, heaven forbid I decide to watch Extreme Home Makeover , I woudn’t even be able to function

  12. PMS = Possible Murder Suspect
    According to the 4 males in my home, they call it “PMS” because Mad Cow Disease was already taken! *ROFL* As I was reading, choking on chips, & spitting Pepsi all over my keyboard (thanks, BTW) all I could hear roaring in my head was “Amen, Sister! Preach it!!!”

    I guess I’m one of those rare lucky ones (if you want to CALL it lucky) that has the harbinger to PMS of craving chocolates…I crave chocolate for 3-4 days before the Monster invades for a couple of days & I mean “crave” as in “I will hurt you in Jesus’ name if you step between me & that bag of M&Ms again!” *LOL* After I’ve obliterated a couple of bags, some big blocks & half a gallon of Starbuck’s Mocha Frappuccino ice cream, it dawns on me that it’s “that time again.”

    Thanks for sharing another great story!
    -hugs-

  13. I just started getting mood swings the last couple of years and I crave chocolate like you wouldnt believe. My husband doesnt even come home unless he’s armed with a chocolate bar!

  14. so these symptoms are JUST during PMS for you?? Surely you jest!! I have these “symptoms” every freakin’ day!! rotflol!! I’m quite proud too that my family thinks I’m bi-polar!! hmmmmm…..maybe THAT’s my problem!

  15. Hi, here from BPOTW! 🙂

    I’ve never thought there was anything wrong with PMSing. After all, it allows me to freely express my true feelings about how much i hate everyone and everything for four days every month. :p

  16. Hahaha!! OMG..i busted out laughing reading this… your dialog is hilarious because that sounds exactly like me! i’m glad i came across this… it makes me feel a little less psychotic 🙂 lol

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