2012- April – Day 3
I knew today would be the worst. I could just feel it when I woke up- like an evil clown had taken over my mind. Smiling on the outside, evil on the inside. I tried to stay calm, happy, peaceful- but it wouldn’t let me. I gave fair warning last week to my family so they should have made preparations for the storm.
During the midst of an argument with my husband- somewhere between why can’t he put the toilet paper on the roll and me taking a stand against processed chicken, I noticed nobody was listening to me. So, I did what any PMSing woman would do- I unplugged the cable from the TV, unscrewed the internet modem, closed the laptops and hid them in the closet, I even unplugged the coffee pot and put it under the sink. Then, matter-of-factly declared this week No Technology Week! I felt like I had to win – at something and I didn’t care what.
My son, Jaren, who was watching said TV didn’t even flinch. He quietly got up to make a ham sandwich and waited for the storm to pass. My husband was sitting back on the couch smirking at me which only fueled the fire. We exchanged sarcastic unpleasantries for 20 minutes- each of us trying to one-up the other. I wanted to win that too!
It was exhausting- or I was exhausted, either way I was going to win.
So I decided to do laundry- the PMS way. I stormed around the house gathering the laundry from each room- and with my arms flailing , threw them in the basket, slammed the detergent on top (because it feels good to hurt inanimate objects when you’re mad) and headed to the laundromat. Maybe watching the dryers go round and round would calm me down. It was worth a try.
I slammed the car door, cranked up my Bon Jovi CD and loudly sand along- “It’s My Life, It’s Now Or Never…” that felt good.
I sat at the laundromat texting to my friends- laughing at their empathetic replies to my breakdown. My friend Diane text- “I threw my toaster out the back door once because my husband was complaining about the burnt toast I served him for breakfast.” My reply, “You made him breakfast?!” –Almost all of my girlfriends have stories of temporary insanity due to PMS. I felt validated. My technology ban wasn’t that bad, was it? I was about to find out.
By the time I arrived home, I felt better, but could tell that my husband and son did not. As I walked passed them, I felt their icy cold stares on the back of my neck.
I decided it would be best to take a nap. After a few hours of sleeping, I awoke to the smell of chicken- unprocessed chicken, and the toilet paper was indeed on the roll.
The next wave of PMS hit me. Sadness and guilt. But then a thought came to me- In my lifetime, I’ve suffered through PMS 1,630 days of 324 weeks in 27 years. If they don’t know what to expect by now, I can’t explain it to them.
My fellow blogger Nicki knows just what I mean. Click to see Nicki break it down for you!