I cannot believe how long it's been since I've written here. I've recently become addicted to a mom's chatting-type site and I spend all this time on there...neglecting all my sweet, faithful readers. But today I felt that little niggling urge to write, and a new self-discovery occurred to me whilst in the loo...where all good ideas truly develop.
I have discovered that I take a certain joy wallowing in my own PMS-related funk. As you all know, I am generally a pretty freaking cheerful person. I like to talk, be friendly, play with kids, all that good, sunshiney stuff. But that one week a month, I turn into a sour, angst-filled teenage girl - and I enjoy it. I like acting snotty when my husband says something he didn't mean anything by (you get me, I know you do), I enjoy sighing with exasperation when asked to go get a drink or another apple or what have you. I particularly relish stomping off in anger for no particular reason and going upstairs to hide in my bedroom, or drive off for an hour by myself. Of course, tonight I hid in my bedroom, where it was nice and silent. I was happy, cocooned in my little nest of peace, when my great big jerk of a husband invaded my space and turned on the REDS game. Oh yeah, now that earned a particularly loud exasperated sigh and stomp off. And it was fun.
I have to remind you all, this behavior only lasts a few days. Both children are still fed, clothed, bathed, etc...albeit not with the same happy cheer I generally perform these duties...but they are performed. But darn it, sometimes a girl has to wallow. And wallow I will.
I need to find some chocolate.