I am premenstrual severely, premenstrual. I was buzzing around Wegman's with the fabulous Ms. S, the cutest girl on two feet and this is usually a pleasant, even delightful experience for me. Do not get me wrong the aspect of basking in the company of Ms. S is withhout fail a delight. But my body chemistry has murderous intent and one simple twat adjacent to the avocados had days that were way past numbered.
A confession: I've been banned from a couple of supermarkets in my day, when I had the panties of evil (as I often refer to PMS) under far less control than I do today. And both of my bannings resulted in my behavior after I'd been hit with a shopping cart, in both cases, I was hit more than once and objected rather strenuously, loudly and as I am large, largely. This did not prevent me from being hit. In the one instance I simply turned around reached for the offending cart behind me in the checkout line and upended it. I was escorted from the store. the other time I was hit twice, but followed the offender to the parking lot and upended the cart on the hood of her car. 'Twas then, I said to myself "self, we may required professional help"...
Which we sought, from the shrink knowns as "that fucking woman in H-D". It's time to go work on my anger management exercises or tomorrow will not be an optimal work experience for anyone.
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I have to say that few things irritate me like being crowded. People who bump you with their carts in the grocery store, as well as people who step up to the register at the drug store while I am still putting my change away, should all be summarily executed. There should be acne-faced teenage boys employed to come and take away the bodies, something like ball boys at a tennis match. Phone zombies should also be dispatched with all speed. Perhaps cell phones could be programmed to taze their owners under given circumstances. While this might lead to a littering of teenage girls and self-important businessmen, surely custodial can take care of that.
As for pms, you probably belong in a cage, but I prefer you roaming free, risks and all. As for me, I get irritable and so forth, but mostly I get weepy. Over anything. Elle horoscope, Jeopardy!, the latest hit by the latest throwaway pop diva. "Keep Bleedin Love" for example. So oddly appropriate lol.
Indeed, I likely do belong in a cage or in my pickup truck tailgating fellow travelers on the highway to hell.
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