I laughed so hard this evening it made my head and tummy hurt. It involved movie quotes and timely farts and really doesn’t bear repeating. You had to be there. I’m glad I was.
It’s always such a relief when the bad mood clears away at last. I’ve started to think we should talk about Post Menstrual Euphoria, rather than PMT. It lasts for a much shorter time, sadly… Perhaps then, instead of dreading ten days of every month, we’d look forward to this shining golden week before the clouds gather again.
Perhaps I just need more exercise. Most months aren’t as bad as this one has been.
But seriously, I don’t think people realise the extent of PMT, the number of systems affected by these perfectly normal hormonal fluctuations. Grumpy, yes. Reduced ability to stop oneself saying whatever one thinks. Hungry, craving salt and fat. Bloating, retaining water. And chips, thank you Billy Connolly. Clumsy. Fuzzy eyesight. Dizzy, thanks to labyrinthitis and resulting BPPV that I’m not quite over. Tired. Cold. Spotty. Restless in my own skin, with a terrible wish to be able to unzip it and climb out of it and leave. Or at least head for the airport with a credit card.
It’s nice to be home.