I had a pleasant evening last night and fell asleep on the sofa. When I woke up towards 11pm, I was in a foul mood. Nothing had changed apart from how I was feeling.
An argument with Him Indoors ensused. I had an idea that I was pre-menstrual but when in the grip, it makes far more sense to rant at the world and its husband in general. When I am like this, I am very insecure but instead of seeking reassurance, I lash out with wild accusations based on nowt or nowt much. This does not make for marital harmony.
I am less patient with the children and animals too. To be honest, I just want everyone out of my face. I remember how with good female friends when students we used to curl up on sofas and eat chocolate at these times whilst watching nonsese on the telly. Men just don’t join in like that, do they?
This morning, I felt like wallowing but managed to write my #groovingmums post. I can’t be bothered with people when feeling vaguely yucky but not enough to be ill. There is also that lacklustre feeling and a lack of motivation to do owt really.
I did not go out with my Dad as I normally do and enjoyed some me time. I laughed at myself a bit on Twitter and on the blog. Therapeutic stuff. Then I thought I would do something constructive and look up PMT on the internet. Most pissed off to be told it affects people aged 20-40 years. Bloody Hell! I am even too old for PMT. Menopause and hip replacements here I come. Oh, the deep joy of being a woman!
Dad came in asking why charities ask for money at Christmas as if it were my own personal fault they do so. “You know about charities” says he. Yes, I worked for charities but only a tiny minority of them and they are a very diverse bunch. He had his view and was not to be moved. I had to really concentrate hard not to snap. “They should ask for money from businesses”. Tried to argue that yes they do and companies do offer support but that did not fit in with his world view. I hate clashing with Dad so retreated back to my cuppa and the sofa.
I hate pre-menstrual tension and I hate our society does not work round the real lives of women. Why can’t we all have a few days in a posh hotel paid for by the state when we are feeling this way? Why can’t working women have proper flexible working so they can fit in little inconveniences like PMT? Why don’t they cover things like pre-menstrual tension, post-natal depression and the realities of women’s lives in our education system?
Now in any other circumstance, having a good rant like this would lift the black clouds but PMT does not work like that. Come on virtual friends, hand me some cyber chocolate and take me away from it all.