PMS=Pretty Much Shitty

I heard that distant howl of the PMS freight train whistling in the background earlier this week, but now it's upon me and shaking my entire foundation. As you can tell from my previous posts I'm sure. I've been tossing and turning at night, bloated like a pig and eating absolutely everything in sight. I also just told my co-workers that if I wanted them asking me 20 quesitons about what I'm doing on a project, I'd (and I quote): "Send out a fucking memo!"

So you see, the other lovely side effect is that if you are in my general vicinity you had better keep a firm grip on your head or I am liable to knock it clean off your shoulders. Fortunately, one of my friends is picking now to get on my last nerve.

I won't go into too much detail but I will say her self-absorbtion is the stuff of legends. As the days go by, my patience for it is wearing very thin. The next GWO (Girls Weekend Out), which she will be present at, is the following weekend and I'm a little nervous under all my excitement.

I'm mostly nervous because she does not show any interest in our lives. Now, she can ignore me all she wants. Yea, it's obnoxious but whatever. What makes me nervous is that because she doesn't pay any attention to our other friends current events (who are going through some heaavy shit), she ends up saying extremely ignorant and insensitive things to them on a regular basis. I'm protective of my friends, even against other friends. Awww....count to 10.

I admit, my poor husband is taking the brunt of it. Well, him and my co-workers but screw them. He just left for the day saying, "I'm going to go home now because I can no longer walk on eggshells today." Hee hee, poor guy.

Fucking uterus.