I think I may be Sybil. Does anyone remember that book (was it a movie too?) about the woman with multiple personalities? I think I may be like her. How can I be a happy, quasi-normal person one day, then wake up to the Jabba-The-Hut-esq creature I am today?
PMS has taken over my life. I rarely, if ever, eat chocolate (I know, something is wrong with me) but have just devoured an unusually large amount of it today. In an unusually small amount of time. Along with anything else sweet that I can find, with the only exception of things found on the floor. Or with hair on it. Unless I can identify and extract the hair. I kid. Kinda.
Things that normally would not bother me have sent me into outer space...like the way my husband breaths....and talks. That constant IN...OUT...IN...OUT breathing. Does he have no idea how the repetition is so grating?! And asking of inane questions...like "Can I get you a tranquilizer?" How annoying. I kid. Sorta. Sorry honey.
My face looks like some sort of connect-the-dot project James has brought home. Isn't childbirth enough reason to not have to endure the constellation on my chin? Shouldn't there be some sort of free pass once you become a mother insuring you a lifetime of clear skin? Why can't these things be allocated to those who are young?! I kid. Not really.
My Three Sons are quivering with the anticipation of their Dad coming home just so they don't have to listen to their whimpering mother vacillating from one extreme to another. I kid. Not at all.
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