i am pre-menstrual. i can feel it.

i just threw a hissy fit. linda likes to use the washer as her personal laundry basket. she gets undressed in the kitchen and tosses everything inside. by the time i get to it, it's 3/4 full, no room for my shit. well i would have none of it today. i yanked her stuff out and threw it on the kitchen floor to make room for my stuff.

"this is coming out!" i said.
"and this!"
"and this!"

(a truly good fit requires plenty of good narration.)

she told me to put it all back in. she thinks i put it all back. well, i did not. and it feels good.

and i feel like eating everything in sight right now. did you know that when you are premenstual you can eat whatever you want and you won't gain weight? it's true. my sister said so.

scientifically, it's cuz your body is working hard and doing all this extra shit. it needs whatever it can get. scones, just f-ing eat'm. don't even worry.

although sometimes after my second cornmeal cherry scone from the cheeseboard i think, woah, steady there. if i'm at work when this voice of moderation hits, i'll scrunch up the scone in its wax-paper sack until it returns to its origninal dough state. and then i'll toss it in my wastepaper basket by my desk. smack my hands and be done with it. i'm in control.

then i'll eye it, just sitting there.

of course, you don't want co-workers seeing you eating from the trash can. although, i think mine would take it in stride.

"oh there's what's her name, eating from the trash again."
"what is her name?"

and while i'm at i want to add that i hate o.b. tampons. hate'm. hate that little plastic wrapper that gets some fierce static charge and will not let go. let go little wrapper. away with you. be gone! but it just clings on to the tip of my finger no matter how hard i shake.

okay, the little woman is up. the laundry is done. time to make dinner.

oh, that's a good one.