Off on my dates

I thought I had PMS last week. Apparently I was wrong and was just being incredibly moody and slightly bitchy. PMS set in last night, for real. I'm hip to it now. My old inner smoker rears its head and I now (as I ignore the impulse to purchase a pack of Camel Lights) acknowledge that as Sign 1. Sign 2 is when I'm *about* to snap at my husband or children, but I don't. Or I do, but it's under my breath. Sign 3 is also very clear, I really and truly believe that 98% of the people around me have suddenly turned into absolute morons.

So there. It's off my chest. I am a good person with a full supply of pads and tampons to see me through the next week.
I will not smoke, snap, or tell anyone that they are a moron. To their face.

Inhale. Exhale.

Back to my lovely book:
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. Check it
out.