So I don’t know if I’m just PMSing or tired, but I’ve been kind of a moody bitch to my boyfriend lately. We’ll be having a perfectly normal conversation and suddenly we’re arguing about the silliest thing. What’s terrible is that I know what we’re fighting about isn’t important. I mean, just because he would rather spend his Sunday night watching TV instead of going to my friend’s BBQ doesn’t really make it OK for me to get annoyed. He’s being honest and I don’t want to drag him along to something that he’s not in the mood for. Right?

Why can’t I just accept this and move on?

As someone who always likes to do a little investigating to ensure personal growth, I researched ways to control my immature and unwarranted reactions. And what I came across has definitely cleared a few things up.

Number one, regular exercise is essential when it comes to a good mood. Physical activity, whether it involves cardio or strength training, produces those fantastic feel-good neurotransmitters known as endorphins. They boost seratonin levels to improve your mood naturally. Because of a busy and stressful week of late, I made zero time to work out. So this has definitely been a factor in my irritability. Sorry Zach.

Number two, taking 1,200 milligrams of a calcium supplement daily has been proven to reduce PMS symptoms by 48%. Um, yea. I definitely haven’t been doing that. Read More »

Unlike most people who only have their birthdays to celebrate every year, I am fortunate enough to have two days in my honor:

March 21st – the day my mother pushed me out of her womb

October 15th – National Grouch Day

Whereas I am always shunned, yelled at and abused for being a “royal bitch,” today I, and others like me, am celebrated for my general moodiness. I am finally vindicated for my annoyance at my roommates leaving their sh*t all over the house, for those mother-effers who can’t figure out what a turn signal is, and for the jerks down the street who keep playing that same damn Lil Wayne song over and over and over.

I don’t have to be ashamed for yelling at the Subway dude who put mayo on my 6 inch turkey on whole wheat with “absolutely no sauces, spices or mayo,” or for pushing the bitch at the bar who cut me in line and then got the last Amstel Light.

No. Today is my day. MINE. A day for me to be who I am and for those around me to celebrate it by leaving me the eff alone. Do not hug me, sing to me, or send me a card; all I want on this day is acceptance of my grouchiness.

And maybe for you people to clean up the damn kitchen. Is that too much to ask?!