No really. I could totally end this post there, but that's entirely too easy and only kind of funny.
So, in the hope that someone can relate, commiserate, and laugh, here is how this horrific phenomenon affects our household:
1. We eat a lot of salty, pizza-y, fried, ice creamy, french fry-y goodness.
2. I burst into tears over absolutely nothing. This is usually followed by someone asking, "What's wrong?" and me saying "I DON'T KNOW! STOP ASKING ME!" and then being all whiny and pouty when no one is checking up on me to make sure I'm okay.
3. I ask everyone and their mother if they're mad at me. Asking random people at the car show this morning was probably crossing some sort of line.
4. I like to spend money. As in going to a car show for something free and fun, and end up buying $100 worth of Scentsy shit at a random booth and a funnel cake and nachos to make me feel better. Hey, to combat all that trans fat, at least my house smells delicious.
5. Someone will attempt to make me feel better by getting me Sonic drinks and/or Coldstone. It generally doesn't help, but will certainly win points. Points will be deducted by asking if I'd rather have the Weight Watchers fudge bar out of the freezer.
I turn our house into a "you'd better walk on eggshells and second-guess yourself four or five times before approaching the beast" danger zone. I'm sorry, family. But you're going to have to deal for a few more years yet.
Dude... WORD. Only I become completely bipolar, along with the whining, sobbing, chowing down of carbs, and asking everyone if I look fat. (If they say NO, i argue with them. If they say YES, I kill them.) I'm 48 and am hanging on to the mad hope that every month, after my usual 5 days of fun, that I will enter menopause. Sigh. I'm so glad I'm a girlllll...
ReplyDeleteDuring my latest round of PMS, I waited in the Chick-Fil-A drive thru line for 15 minutes only to be given sandwiches with pickles on them when I specifically said, "NO PICKLES". After I practically threw the messed up sandwiches at them and got home with my freshly made pickle-less ones, I burst into hysterical sobs. It was a very upsetting time. PMS makes me feel outrage VERY strongly. I expect my boyfriend to leave me any day now. I've never seen him look so freaked out. To sum up, you're definitely not alone in the "being female sucks" club.
ReplyDelete@KC - I seriously eye the melon baller and butter knives every month. DIY hysterectomy, anyone?
ReplyDelete@Mallory - I hope you made the Chick-Fil-A jackholes cry. Don't mess with my food, ESPECIALLY THIS WEEK! If only there were a genie or something to let guys know just a scosh of what we go through as women. I vote for back labor.
"Points will be deducted by asking if I'd rather have the Weight Watchers fudge bar out of the freezer." Oh my god, YES! And also, how do you get these magical people to go get you Coldstone? Obviously I need to up my game.
ReplyDeleteMy house is a walking on eggshells house as well. The hubs likes to disappear for a good 3-4 days. He calls them business trips. I think he fears for his life and they are self-preservation trips. (Apparently the kids are on their own). He's probably right, though. He always was a smart man.