Things I’ve gotten angry at today just because I have PMS:
1. The woman with the screaming baby walking at the lake this morning. I couldn’t rush away fast enough. 2. The two people who wouldn’t pull their dogs back on the leash, so that they managed to take up the entire width of the walking path, forcing me to step off rather than kicking the dog (when I actually wanted to kick the owner). 3. The old guy I saw delivering phone books. I hate phone books. Why do you need a phone book when you have the internet? So, yeah. I got mad at him, too. He wasn’t even delivering them in my neighborhood. 4. The huge volumes of spam I receive (I believe this to be a rational anger, however). 5. The way the paint flakes off my weights and almost falls into my eyes whenever I’m doing flies and accidentally bump them together. 6. The fact that I had a span of five hours in between finishing up my work and going to toning class, in which I had to come up with some way to occupy myself, but didn’t feel like doing any more work, cleaning, running errands, resting, reading, or talking. I felt like exercising, but I had already walked three miles in the morning, and knew that if I walked another three, I’d be tired at class. 7. My hip. 8. The neighbors. While I was lifting, I watched them walking around gossiping again. I swear to god, these women need jobs. Like delivering phone books or something. 9. My oatmeal, for making a mess in the microwave. 10. The microwave, because I put the rotating glass plate in the dishwasher, then got mad when I went to heat something up later and it wasn’t in there. 11. Every single person who has messaged me on AIM today*. 12. Nearly every single person I’ve exchanged emails with today*. * The problem is, if you’re communicating with me in some way, and I am able to take the individual letters in your communication, rearrange them, and form them into something vaguely resembling a slight or insult of some kind, I’m going to be angry. And it’s not your fault at all. It’s me, really. Unless you are, in fact, arguing with me, in which case it is your fault, and I hate you. Lately, Heather tells me I need to maybe work on the aggression a little. Hmm. Anyway, your safest bet is to pretend I don’t exist for a few days. Although that’s likely to piss me off, you know. You’re so screwed.Jenni