I used to have PMS and would get easily saddened by life. I was emotional and overwhelmed and often couldn't get out of bed. Then I realized that I was turning all of that angst inside, and I really needed to place all that emotion where it belonged; on everyone else I came in contact with.
Here are some reasons why:
I am too hot and my boobs hurt.
I look fat in everything I own, I also look fat in everything in the stores and everything in existence.
The dog, cat, and children are underfoot.
The cat is purposefully trying to kill me by tripping me, rubbing fur on my nose when I sleep, and shooting death rays from his eyes.
I trip over toys.
I open a cabinet and toys fall on my feet, requiring me to bend over and pick them up. Bending over reminds me that my boobs hurt and my stomach is too fat.
For some reason I am really clumsy and spill things which makes me madder, which makes me spill things more.
The dog smells bad and won't quit following me.
I am growing a new pimple or 12.
My coffee is too hot or too cold.
The children want to be fed AGAIN.
Because the cat food is located below the coffee pot, every time I go to get coffee the cat attacks me.
NO ONE HAS DELIVERED CHOCOLATE TO MY HOUSE, and if they did. I couldn't eat it because I AM TOO FAT.
Did I mention I am convinced that my eyelids are starting to droop, which will make me feel tired for the rest of my life, reduce my peripheral vision and make me look old?
The dog is making wet mouth noises.
No one gave me a puppy today.
I could go on and on for ages, but I think you get the picture.
I think perhaps PMS is designed to make you happy when you get your period, or, perhaps, it is just to keep men in check. And if a man, ever, ever suggests that my mood might be due to PMS he better run fast and far and not come back unless he is carrying chocolate covered orgasms. Or puppies. But not chocolate covered puppies.
No, there is no accompanying graphic to amuse you. It's all about you, isn't it? Did you not read my blog today? Then why are you bothering me?