If the mess coupled with my OCD wasn't enough... I'm quite certain my husband is 'PMS'ing!!! I don't have many men that stop in here, but the few that do- come on, the jig is up! Admit it, won't you? There is a week, once a month where you can't seem to satisfy a scratch, can eat your weight in chocolate chip cookies, and up is down and black is white- right?
We ladies get a total bum rap on the whole PMS thing. It's blamed for any "off" day. Sure, I ate a gallon of chocolate chocolate chip ice cream, called you a 'limp dicked stinky asshat' because you didn't make the bed even though you were the last one to get out of it, and cried in the shower because, well, who the hell knows why we cry then! Like I said- "off" day!
He was reading up on the owner's manual for the new car and discover the 'Jukebox' option (downloading your own songs into the computer of the car). I told him that I just prefer to listen to the variety of music that is offered on Satellite radio. Hold the Phone! You'd have thought I forced his hand at sacrificing his mother so I could make jewelry out of her appendages!
All of a sudden I am a boring, stupid, crazy bitch, my taste in music sucks, we shouldn't have even bought the car, and he wanted to go home immediately. Talk about 'on the rag!'- what a bitch! Is it that time of the month? Can I get you some Midol? I have an idea... GO BACK TO WORK!!!