Hold On

You know that line in the movie The Devil Wears Prada when Stanley Tucci says -

"Gird you loins!"

Or the chorus in that 80s song by Depeche Mode -

"I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors
But I think that God's got a sick sense of humor
And when I die I expect to find him laughing"

These are the things I think about when PMS strikes.

Seriously - Why?  Why must it be difficult?  Why can't we find a plan and if we stick with it things fall into place?  Why do our bodies, hormones, and neurons fire up at different times only to screw the shit out of our schedule?

Right now I have Van Morrison blasting from the computer and I am hoping the music and some exercise chase away the PMS blues.  Wish me luck!

Geeeez!  Sometimes I feel sorry for my guy, but I would never admit it to his face.