I have, god help us, the worst kind of PMS.
No, not the wolverine killing rage kind. That one’s only bad for other people.
No, not anxiety PMS either. Although that one does suck, mind you.
No, I have…weepy PMS.
My first sign was wandering around Food Lion and suddenly being stricken with crushing despair amongst the Cheetos. I don’t think Cheetos are usually harbingers of despair,* so that was kind of a tip off. Then I went to the car, turned on NPR, and was moved to nearly to tears by the current price of oil, although to be fair, completely rational people would cry over that right now, so it might not be proof either. But the signs were all there. Random weeping to NPR is always my tip off–when you find yourself sobbing over a status report on IRA disarmament or an interview with a mime, you know you’re in for a rough couple of days, brooding over the deaths of fictional characters, sulking on the couch, and sighing heavily a lot.
I am in a funk. A hormonal funk, which is both the best and worst kind–best, because you know rationally that your life is really wonderfully fine, and it’s all just chemicals in your head, and worst because there’s not a damn thing you can do, nothing you can resolve, it’s all just chemicals in your head. Distraction and hard work, the great cures for despair, make no dent in weepy PMS. Well, hard work sort of does, but it’s hard to sustain. The vast wells of cheery energy upon which my life is founded are at the low water mark. I feel like the last day of the flu–not really sick, but not ready to get out of bed yet, either.
Fortunately, I only get this subspecies a few times a year, tops, and it tends to clear up a few days before the actual culmination of Ye Olde Hormonal Cycle, so at most I’ve got another day and some change. It does seem to be more common as I age, which is annoying. Why couldn’t I get more of the Deranged Cleaner PMS, or the Muse-Ridden PMS? Now those would be useful.
Oh, well. Time to shower, and curl up with a good book, and wait it out.
*NEW!! Extra Nacho Misery! Now with tiny black wings and more cheese flavor!
my goal in life is nacho misery