Friday, November 13, 2009

Moon Over My Hormones...

Oof. Last weekend I fell victim to one of the world's classic blunders. I was very hard to deal with. It would have been laughable, if I wasn't so out of control. Now it's a little laughable.



I spent the weekend entirely irritated, then irritated because I was irritated. Nothing my boyfriend said or did was right, and I made sure he knew. This all stems from an hormone pill gone awry that affected me days later with an uncontrollable bout of fake PMS, on top of which was the issue of me not sleeping at all on Friday night. I was resentful because I get up for work at 4am, and never see the sun. By the time I get home I'm sleepy or it's rainy, or whatever. I was resentful I had to work all weekend, I was resentful that I was going to have to bow out of our church's Christmas program because of my new schedule and transitioning into a new position. I was resentful that the floors just don't stay clean. I was even resentful that my boyfriend went grocery shopping without me, and he bought me ice cream, wine and flowers to make up for my mood. Maybe I didn't want those things! It was not so much fun for anyone, least of all me or him. I thought about writing, but I knew it would just come out whiny and pouty, so I kept my fingers to myself, knowing I was overreacting, but feeling totally helpless about it.

Monday I texted my best friend with some sort of comment like, "I think I need to have a cry day and get this out of my system. Can we get together for a PS I love you day?" I learned she had also had a horrible weekend and we both just gushed out, "I MISS YOUUUUU!" As soon as we got on the phone. So I decided I would keep it all in, and have our day together Thursday to cry it all out, because that is what PS I love you is for, seriously.

Tuesday, I finished work and went shopping for the few items I needed that Captain Awesome didn't know I wanted to buy. I came home exhausted, carrying my 4 bags of produce, and set it all down to lock up my garage. I picked it all back up, stepped out into the parking lot and twisted my ankle on a landscape rock that some children had strewn about. Everything went flying. Imagine the cartoon of this, cast me as an old lady, and see everything flying through the air; cucumbers, grapefruit, apples, bananas. Memory flashes went careening through my mind; I was four, and I wiped out on my bike in front of my piano teacher's house. I can imagine the feel of the dirt in my mouth and the taste of the Popsicle she gave me while she cleaned me up, grape. Peter Griffin, sitting outside after falling, holding his knee and spending way too much energy and time making pain noises; "Ssssssssst. Aaaahhhhhhh!" for 5 minutes. And the old staple for me, "don't cry now Wait for it." I sat in the parking lot, rubbing my knee and feeling 4 years old, knowing it was skinned (at what point do we stop being proud of our skinned knees and see them as a child's injury?) through my jeans, and decided not to cry. OBVIOUSLY all my neighbors are going to be at their windows watching me. Obviously. So I gathered up my now bruised food (poor me!) and walked to the house, keeping my composure by a minute measurement. I opened the door, and Captain Awesome was sitting inside, all happy because he had just connected with a friend he hadn't seen in over 10 years. I immediately changed the entire environment in the room, unable to postpone my pity party any longer. He jumped up, and I told him I tripped in the parking lot, tears streaming down my face. I blurted out some nonsense about my bananas being bruised, and my apples, and how I felt like a little kid. He tried to distract me (like a child, I might add :P) by picking up some gloves that were lying on the table. "Look honey!" he said, "You got nice new gloves for work, that was good, right?" And in between sobs I inform him that they are the wrong ones and I have to take them back. "And (heugh) I have to wear (heugh) gloves because I (heugh) don't (heugh) feel (heugh) like (heugh) a (heugh) girlllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!" Which only made me feel more stupid, so I immediately followed with "I am ONLY crying because of my knee right now!" Yeah, that was better. Shwew; I almost lost it there.

He let me cry like a baby, offered to take me out for dinner that night, and told me to go sit out in the sun for 15 minutes with my turtle. I can't BELIEVE how much that helped me. I had no idea I had Seasonal Affect Disorder, with which I am self diagnosed :) How else do you explain it? Brain tumor. (I know you're thinking it too: "It's not a tumuh!") I took a nice long bath while watching Grey's Anatomy and took a nap. Isn't that what kids do?

So, long story short, I was reminiscent of that Everybody Loves Raymond episode in season 4, where Deborah has that horrible PMS. It was great. When Thursday rolled around, I didn't really need a cry day anymore, but I took it anyway. We spent the whole movie waiting for Jeffrey Dean Morgan to show up, so we could say, "yes please," because he is soooo cute. She's awesome. And yes, I cried a little bit. It's what I watch when I need to cry!

Anyway, I am back to my old self, mostly. Bright sides everywhere, not freaking out because the dishes are in the sink or the dog ran away from me instead of to me when I called it. True story, I grabbed the leash to take the dog out, but when he saw it, he ran away. So I (very dramatically) threw down the leash and said, "FINE." That's got to be a sign of something. So when I'm whiny or being unreasonable, I say to myself, "nobody cares." It gets pretty funny after a while. Or I cough like a kid playing sick and whine, "I hate my life!" But mostly, nobody cares.

So today's song of the day is the song I listen to when I need to cheer up. It's my favorite song.

Galway Girl, by Mundy
(this was written by Steve Earl but I HATE his version. It's better to hear it in a pub, live. Plus I love Mundy. This is actually better by the accousticats, but it won't let me put in a song I have on my computer as an mp3. Plus, Sharon Shannon was a friend of my dead fiance's, and I don't listen to her for that reason. Nothing against her, I just will NOT associate that song that I love with that experience...even though she plays this version with Mundy. Fine. Whatever. Nobody cares.)

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=galway%20girl

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