I am plagued by PMS.
The "S" in PMS stands for "syndrome. " Let's face it, there's nothing good about a "syndrome." If you will take moment to notice the moon's current phase, you'll see (quite vividly) that the moon is full. The female "cycle" is closely corroborated with the cycle of the moon. So for future reference, if the moon is full, you can bet that I'm barking at something.
Is there anyone out there that hasn't suffered from said syndrome? Aside from the 50% of you who hit the estrogen-free lottery, is there anyone who doesn't suffer from it? I seriously want to know so that I can do a drive by I'll-show-you-what-it's-like shooting. That sounds a bit harsh. You might want to know that I shoot a Canon 30d.
Anyway, it is my plan to display a splattering of PMS enduced emotions. It's as if:
- Every word uttered in your direction feels like sandpaper on the skin.
- There are 1800 tiny worms fretting about in your bloodstream and each is commanding that you do something different.
- Your six-year-old yahoo comes in (smelling like a boy-at-play) and asks you to name 5 different pokemon characters.
- And speaking of smell, the olfactory glands are at full attention. For instance, the kitchen garbage behind me sends a vapor now and again. And each time (see next item)
- You become increasingly irritated that the people you share the house with cannot read your mind and do all the household duties all at once.
- Someone has told you that you can only wear one pair of shoes and listen to one CD for the rest of your life.
- Every nerve ending has little tiny spikey things on it... so when you bump into something, it feels like a trip to the dentist.
- Someone has given you a million dollars and you cannot spend it.
- Your 10 worst bad-hair days are happening all at once.
- That same stinky yahoo complains endlessly that "no one can play."
- You've named your guitar hero band "PMS Panther" (that's a true story).