It was recently pointed-out to me that I suffer from PMS.
To those of you who don't know what PMS is, I am going to assume you are either an alien, or a gay man who was raised by two men and who has never had contact with a woman over an extended period of time ever (although let's be honest, the first is more likely.)
PMS stands for Pre-Menstrual-Syndrome, also known as MFI (Monthly Female Insanity) and/or TB (Temporary Bitchiness). Some also call it the Mad Cow Disease.
Me. |
To the point, I am a person who believed never to have experienced PMS. I had on days and off days, but I had never noticed a particular pattern to them.
That is, up until recently.
I have realized that suffering from PMS is the worst feeling in the world. Put simply, EVERYTHING FUCKING IRRITATES ME.
Also, when my time of the month comes along, I have a tendency to stop caring about my appearance and slowly (over a period of four or five days) start to resemble an psychotic camel on GHB.
This morning, I had to go to school to perform in a workshop my teacher was giving. I ended up, due to many unforeseeable circumstances, seeing my bus pull up to my corner as I was putting the lock in my front door. I started running towards the corner when the bus pulled away. I then ran halfway to the next stop before seeing the bus driver leave again. Normally, this would have ticked me off, I may have flipped off the driver and been on my way.
Today, I collapsed on the street, sobbing.
Thank you, PMS.
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