Have you ever had one of those days where, let's say you're maybe a teeny tiny bit neurotic (ok, so I changed my clothes three times today), and you have a meeting that you were a bit worried about and while you weren't 100% happy with the outcome (or lack thereof), afterward a colleague says, "Why were you so emotional?" and because you had thought you'd hid it better than that, you can only answer, "Hormones?"
And then you want to go home, curl into your bed, drink a bottle of wine, and cry?
For really no other reason than the fact that apparently every month your body is trying to drive you absofuckinglutely insane?
No? Just me?
Earlier this morning, when I was changing clothes, again, I was struck with the though that if I lived among a primitive tribe, I would be hiding in a hut right now, possessed with the evil spirits as I am. And I thought this would be a good thing. Notice that this occurred to me well before the meeting and the confrontation and the question and the gah.
So I posed it to Tyler - that I thought that just maybe, removing a woman from, oh, society during That Time might not necessarily be a bad thing, since I was spending all my time changing my clothes and trying not burst into tears at inappropriate moments.
But then he dashed my dream by pointing out that maybe, just maybe, since we females have the weird habit of cycling together, gathering all the women you know in the same place when they're all mildly homicidal, probably not such a good idea.
Dammit.
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