I am really, really cranky today. At first, I thought it was because it was Tuesday, and since I'm always cranky on Tuesdays I just kind of shrugged it off. But then, as I was sitting on the kitchen floor eating frosting out of the can with a spoon and washing it down with vodka I realized, "It's not Tuesday. It's THURSDAY." Shit. I don't really have a good excuse for being a total bitch on a Thursday, nor for eating frosting for lunch. Except I'm too damn bitchy to care, and might punch anybody who points that out to me. Come on. Try it.
Normally, I'm not the kind of girl who gets all pre-menstrual and possessed by the devil. I've got friends who I would literally run through fire to avoid while they are hormonal because they are so damn emotional and crazy I can't stand to be near them. (The worst part is when they are all weepy and want to hug a lot. Huggers piss me off, and make me all tense and uncomfortable.) I knew a girl once who would literally swing from screaming fits to uncontrollable sobs for no reason whatsoever the week before she started her period. (We're lucky I survived that roommate. On a side note, she changed her major our freshman year from Communications to Physical Education because she decided her life's calling was to be an aerobics instructor. No joke. Good luck with that one, Jacklyn.) Myself, well, I usually just stay really hungry when I'm PMSing. Anyway, the point is that this month, I seem to be generally channeling Satan on a daily basis and giving the proverbial finger to the universe when it causes my conscience to murmur, "That frosting will make you fat and jack your blood sugar up so high you'll be a blind amputee by 35." FUCK YOU, UNIVERSE.
Yeah, that's right. FUCK YOU, UNIVERSE.