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I got the syndrome and I got it real bad.

What syndrome do I speak of and is it contagious?

It’s THE syndrome and you cannot ‘catch’ it per se but if you are a female between the ages of 12 – 55 (I don’t know I’m guessing here) you’ve had it too. Once a month.

P. M. S. aka Premenstrual Syndome. Permanently Make me Sad Syndrome. Possibly (temporarily) Menstally unStable Syndrome. Piss Me off Syndrome.

I hate it. No one enjoys it and I’m even among the fortunate who is not left feeling like her insides are being ripped apart by cramps. That’s seriously no laughing matter. For real. Instead, shockingly enough, I’m a little more on the emotional side. Irritable, emotional, angry, hungry, and tired AF. I’m either tired due to insomnia because who doesn’t do well with sleep deprivation when already irritable or I’m tired due a kind of exhaustion I didn’t know even in pregnancy. It’s a real perk. A real blessing.

I’m done having kids. I don’t need my uterus anymore. I don’t need the hormones except that I know there are more good times ahead when the next great phase of the female biological fortune starts messing with those hormones and I’m further blessed with menopause.

Yeah yeah, we’re lucky because we get to give the gift of life and wowee we can grow another human in our bodies. Pretty cool and all that shit BUT unless vying for your own reality show on TLC we no longer need to be fertile for 40 years. Why hasn’t someone figured out how to shut PMS down without it wreaking havoc on our systems?

If you can’t provide me with an answer to this question can we, as a society, at the very least band together to be as least irritating as possible? I can tell you how – it’s quite simple:

  1. Drive the speed limit. If you want me to crack a smile, try pushing that needle just a little past it even (nothing reckless, just a nice little nod to the wish to get somewhere in a timely fashion).

2. Chew with your mouth closed. If you don’t know why or think this is an issue, stop reading right now. You probably breathe too loudly as well.

3. Make something that tastes delicious and is also calorie free but not full of chemicals and not something lame like a “delightful Waldorf salad” or some shit. I want to be at risk of diabetes when I look at it.

4. Try not to talk to me unless necessary, you have a point, and/or I’ve already expressed my affection for you in the past, then you have a little more leeway – but don’t get carried away.

5. Don’t ask me questions. Unless it’s: “Hey do you want this calorie free but not harmful cinnamon bun that you’ll be able to enjoy only one of and then stop eating?” Even then, don’t bother asking, just attach a note and set it down in front of me and quietly back away. You don’t even know how much I would respect that.

6. Turn on music. Right now I’m listening to a little Fire and Rain by James Taylor and it’s just what this girl needed. I feel good from the inside out – not so good you should strike up a conversation with me, but good in a less stabby way. Ooo – now it’s Me and Bobby McGee! I need a moment.

7. Make it acceptable to come to work in a onesie. Enough said.

8. Better yet, we should be granted one day off a month, at the very least with which we do whatever the fuck we please that makes us feel better. Don’t tell me if that if you-know-what came out you-know-where on a man that the whole world wouldn’t shut down and/or there would be a ‘cure’ (aside from pregnancy, because AS IF).

9. Tell me I look 26. I woman did that, very innocently this morning, and I almost became intimate with her. (Not really, settle down, but geez la-wheez did that make me feel good!).

10. Have a sense of humor and don’t take any of this too seriously (except for the driving, talking, onesie, music, and food parts…I want all of those things to happen).

Catch ya on the flipside, mothertruckers, you’ve been warned. 😉

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