PMT ate my weekend. By this, I don’t mean it made me pig out. Rather, PMT consumed it. Devoured it. Left me without so much as a morsel of my Saturday and Sunday that wasn’t spent in its torturous grasp, being a psychotic cow.
During that fraught 48 hours, here are some of the activities I tried to loosen its grip:
1. Eating handfuls of Choc Bits straight from the packet.
2. Shopping for new jeans (file this also under MASOCHISM and STUPIDITY)
3. Blasting Midnight Oil on my iPod while running on a treadmill.
4. Shouting at my husband.
5. Shouting at my children.
6. Phoning my mother to complain about everything.
7. Shouting at the mirror.
8. Swallowing handfuls of Evening Primrose Oil capsules.
9. Shouting at the TV remote controls for being IMPOSSIBLE to use.
10. Possibly throwing them across the room.
11. Buying the ugliest pair of shoes I’ve ever owned.
12. Cake.
With a special highly commended mention to Choc Bits and Midnight Oil, none of it helped a jot.
So if there’s anything that can combat PMT I’d like to know about it (yes, yes, I know it’s called PMS these days but I haven’t had it for years so I still call it PMT and don’t argue with me because I will hurt you, bitch).
And please don’t tell me to meditate or turn my frown upside down (see above threat to hurt you).
Having been blissfully free of it for more than a decade, I’d forgotten how insidiously evil PMT can be. Particularly compared to other recurring afflictions.
Top Comments
Boy, they really are ugly shoes!
It sounds like you have your coping plan worked out pretty well. I have learned its best to admit it then try to hang out in areas of home/work/earth where other people are not. This is due to the almost overwhelming paranoia that overcomes me, you know, where you're sitting in the office at work fuming because those two people out on the floor are obviously laughing at you...
I've come to the conclusion that all that stuff about being kicked out of the garden and having to work the hard soil by the sweat of your brow for the rest of your life wasn't the real punishment God gave man when he ate the wrong fruit - PMT was definitely the real deal.
Great post Mia. Sooo true, the worst part being I know it is coming up, it is marked on calendar and in my work diary as "crazy days" and still I fall for it's madness. Have tried to divorce my husband numerous times during PMS, resigned from the same job twice (thankfully my boss wouldn't accept my resignation both times, third time lucky/unlucky?) loathe everyone and when it's over emerge from it like a happy butterfly uttering the words "I feel fine now"! Much to the confusion of all around me. Have never had children/have no intention of, and wonder why I had to have the equipment that I have never used, kinda like an unwanted vehicle in the garage that constantly has service problems! LOL!