An Open Letter to PMS

Dear PMS:

Why?
Just why?

Who do you think you are? I mean really. You come around once a month like that annoying friend you don’t really want to hear from, yet every month, without fail, she asks you for plans and you feel sort of obligated. So you give in, but then coffee turns into an all day shopping ordeal and by the end you want to tear your hair out because now not only did you learn that you can’t stand the person you are with, but  – bonus lesson! – you learned that eating cookies DOES in fact equal having to buy a size up in your jeans.

Well that’s how I feel with you. Only instead of a day, it’s 5 and the only person I can’t stand to be around is myself. (The part of the too-tight jeans rings true thanks to you making me feel the urge to eat a bag of something salty, which of course leads me to want something sweet, which then of course leads me to want a tuna sandwich. I know! I don’t get it either!)

You make me weepy. I cry at Disney commercials (true story) and when the cheesy music comes on as the lesson is learned at the end of Full House. Strike that – you make me actually want to watch Full House. Read More »