PMS Survival Kit (Innocent Bystander edition)

As soon as you sense that you are descending into that hormone-fueled fog, GRAB THIS LIST AND CAGE THE BEAST.

1.  First, and this is very important for your future happiness, avoid anyone who does not love you unconditionally

2.  Even if they DO love you unconditionally, avoid anyone who has previously hinted that they think you ought to be committed to some form of institution

3.  If you are struck down at work, avoid interaction with your boss and coworkers. Try to dull your senses with loud Pandora music. Chew gum. Pretend you have something contagious.

4.  If your time is your own, and it seems that playing competitive games would take your mind off your troubles, be careful to only play opponents far inferior to your skills.  This should provide some protection against broken electronics and/or furniture.

5.  Remember, if someone’s odor or appearance offends you, that does not give you the right to punch them. Wait till they say something that could reasonably be construed as a threat or insult.

6.  Alcohol will probably just make things worse.

7.  It is for these moments that the sensible woman keeps a chocolate stash.  Be sure to maintain this stash in times of peace and harmony, but don’t fool yourself into thinking it is safe to buy unknown brands.  Low-quality chocolate is a dangerous drug, and could just add to the hormone-induced rage.  High quality and gooeyness are good factors to look for in creating your stash.

8.  Go to the gym.  You know you should anyway.

9.  If you can’t make yourself go to the gym, consider sleeping the whole thing off. There is no shame in hibernation, but I would advise telling others that you have a headache (bringing up homicidal urges and demon possession will make people keep talking to you, which never ends well).

10.  There is likewise no shame in crying, though it is best pursued as a solitary release.  If you must cry, be sure to stick your face in cold water afterwards.  Otherwise, you WILL look ridiculous and lumpy-faced tomorrow.  It’s no good persuading yourself that you will look wan and heroic, because you won’t.  You’ll have to explain to your coworkers that you watched a sad movie and cried, and admitting that it was Hot Rod will not advance your career one little bit.

11.  Wow, it would be really great if you had a loving, furry pet right now, wouldn’t it? Try visualizing it. Or go to CuteOverload.  Do it.

12.  Come on now, how would your grandma feel if she saw you acting like this? Snap out of it!

13.  Exorcism is probably not the answer, but who am I to judge?

I’m attaching two useful resources that I’ve created:

PMS Survival Flowchart

PMS Redemption Guide

The world is not ending, I am just bored. Repeat.

It is Monday, and it has been raining spitefully all day.  No titillating thunderstorms or cathartic downpour  sessions ending with rainbows –  just evil, shoe-filling globs of water.

I’ve tried a lot of tricks throughout the years to pull myself sanely through these kinds of days.  Most of these tricks involve sugar and escapism.  Just for fun, I thought I’d record their evolution thus far…

The first I can remember is books.  Somewhere around 2nd grade, I began to like them (The Boxcar Children were my first real addictions).  I developed a system wherein, if I got bored in class, I would pretend to drop a pencil.  Then I’d lean down to pick it up, and crawl into the large closet at the side of the room.  I would then read books in the light of the crack under the door.  I truly believed no one noticed, until roughly the 100th time I’d ventured forth, when a fellow classmate hissed “she’s doing it again!” — and I picked up the ‘dropped pencil’ and resumed my seat.  It was the end of an era.

I kept reading books, lots of them.  I signed up for a GoodReads account the other day, and just ranking the obvious ones took a few hours — but it was a blissful few hours.

Then, for freshman orientation, my college dean taught us the following mantra: “No matter what you say or do to me, I am still a worthwhile person.” It doesn’t work.  Sorry.

A mantra that works better, which I wrote on my arm in sky blue ink during a drunken rage at an innocent then-boyfriend, is: “Remember puppies!!!!!”

Serotonin supplements help, but I think they make me lazy, so I cut back.

Caffeine is AWESOME.

Today I am assaulted by feelings of insignificance and the sense that the world is spiraling inward to death by boredom and self-disgust.  Every once in a while I snap out of it and realize I’m just bored and irritable. Hence the title mantra.  I’m alternating the boredom mantra with the fact that my grandparents went to a “Senior Prom” at their retirement home two nights ago and danced romantically.  So there might be hope for the future, after all.

Senior Prom

Midnight poetry draft 1

Lover
If I were the sun I would
sift down,
copper-spark tufting hair,
paint myself
across your gentled lids –
honey golden –
mustard yellow –
stinging into the gelled
whites of your eyes
and
blotching, burning your
swelling lips,
before you could tell
another
goddamned
joke.