Oct 22 2008
We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Blog Post
Oh, yes, my friends. It’s that time.
Hide the children. Bar the windows. Someone get the straight jacket and chocolate truffles. It’s P.M.S.
And it’s ugly.
Surely I was set to post about something - my failed exercise attempts, my dubious parenting skills, my unkempt home and dirty laundry. I’m certain whatever it was would have been either freaking hilarious or profoundly poignant.
Instead, you get this - an incoherent half post because I can’t focus. Not on writing. Not on exercise. Not on fifth grade science projects or housework or anything.
What I can do is walk through the house singing Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name” at the top of my lungs while I pick up wayward socks. Surprisingly, it is effective in relieving a certain amount of tension. And no, the song choice is in no way reflective of my super-fabulous husband who was kind enough to fetch me some rice pudding while my spirits were down.
Let’s hear it for the husband, ladies and gentlemen.
Helene: Maybe I should have my husband run an online sensitivity training course.
Casey: Apparently we are not the only ones in sync. I didn’t know that kind of stuff could get aligned via internet connections. I’ll exercise, I’ll exercise, just please don’t sing.
Leah: Thanks for the bloggy hugs. Yep, Bon Jovi works, so does Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”.
Dysfunctional Mom: Aunt Flo is a total beeotch.
Sheila: I might have to wear that tee-shirt of yours all month.
I wish I knew where the socks went, it would help if my kids deposited them in the hamper like they were supposed to.
bmommy: Thanks for the kind words, SITSta. I thought for a minute maybe you were menopausal, thanks for clearing that up.
Lydia: I think my PMS has gotten worse over the years, maybe it’s all them kids, maybe it’s my *gasp* age. But I’m a mess when it comes on. A mess. You have my sympathy.
Kia: Yet another simultaneous PMSer. I read about your accident. Glad you’re okay. I was in the process of commenting when something distracted me, maybe a screaming kid or a different screaming kid. I dunno. Thanks alot for the tag. Really. Thanks. Sarcasm doesn’t translate well in text does it.
Aubrey: My husband will appreciate the golf clap. Again, PMS sensitivity training seems in order.
Tammy: A band might help us all work out our aggressions. I call the tambourine as I have no musical talent whatsoever.
Kat: Brains are yummy.
Kelly: Another one bites the dust! Glad to know I’m not suffering alone.
Melody: Sweet hubbies are a good thing.
Lori: There’s quite an army of us sufferers.
Elizabeth: This weird phenomenon with the matching cycles is becoming worrisome. Maybe we should start a support group and invest in Advil stocks.
Toni: Thanks.