Right now, I am not anyone's friend. I'm angry at the world. Particularly at... well... particularly at nothing, nothing that I can think of, anyway (and believe me, I'm thinking, I'm thinking). But I'm irritable and I'm angry and I want to show it.
So why am I so irritable? Well jeez, can't you work it out?
Obviously, I am irritable because I am pre-menstrual. Yes, my period is about to start and my body is doing the Monthly Dance Of Mad. The hormones are at work, rushing through my poor womanly veins, sloshing around my brain, making me want to stab everything that moves with the fork I am currently using to spear bits of extremely salty fetta off my plate. (I crave salty things when I'm pre-menstrual. Got a problem with that? SUE me.)
What's more, my breasts are sore, I'm absolutely starving (even after 23 pieces of salt toast), I have no energy, and my tummy is poking out of my jeans like a partially inflated helium balloon. And why? For what? I've had my kids. I don't want anymore. Why do I need to keep menstruating for another decade or so? And even if I did want to keep menstruating,why does it need to make me feel cranky and horrible? Isn't menstruating itself bad enough?
Furthermore, things keep going wrong today, just when - in my delicate, pre-menstrual state - I need them to go right. This morning, for example, we ran out of Vegemite. I mean, can you believe it? How the hell does that happen? Who on earth was responsible? Well, me, most likely, but that is completely beside the point. It made me furious and distraught, and so desperate for my salt fix that I was forced to eat salt on hot buttered toast, which, I can assure you, is remarkably inferior to Vegemite (though it has a similar effect on your fluid retention). And you know what? I reckon it was your fault. Okay, not really, but I'm angry, and who else am I going to blame?
And this is the worst part. Because to be honest, the only thing that has gone wrong today is the lack of Vegemite. And - whilst certainly that pained me tremendously - it wasn't sufficient reason to get really angry. And I want to get really angry. Desperately. I want to yell and scream and, if at all possible, smack someone really hard. And everyone has been perfectly charming. It's terribly frustrating.
So for the moment, I'll just have to suffer in silence. But god help anyone who contradicts me. And if my husband tries to suggest that I'm pre-menstrual, well, he's going to get a smack.
And if you've got a problem with that, SUE me.