Monthly Man-sies.

Ugh,
I have figured out the route of all this internal poopiness.
It's my man period.  I'm sure of it.

Today, at work, I almost lost my cool with the sweetest little old Russian woman, because she was taking so long to decide on a lip colour.  Then after giving a 71 year old woman a freeze frame demo makeover, I almost cried because she looked happy.

Perhaps I am not as lonely after all?

When any movie starring bloody buggery Ashton Kutcher can invoke any emotion in me besides irritation, annoyance, or the the need to turn it off, it's a sure sign of my monthly man flow.

My feet hurt, my back hurts, my skin looks horrid.  Perhaps being raised by women has ruined my hormonal balance?

I want some fucking chocolate, and I want it right now. Not 5 minutes from now. NOW.

Also, I feel better about being single today than yesterday.  I don't want anyone in my personal space, and certainly not a man "of interest."  I need to be right where I am, right now:  Sprawled out in my bed in too-loose shorts, a tee shirt, and badly paired jewelry.  Drinking tea that's too sweet (but more than delicious), and still wanting some god-damned chocolate.  Maybe Reese's? 

In other news, iPhone OS5 was released today, and if my computer and phone don't make friends with each other soon and upgrade faster, I will possibly drown them both in my bath-tub and take up the use of carrier pigeons.

Anyway, if anybody is actually reading this: Sorry.
I will be nicer tomorrow I hope.  Maybe a little St. John's Wort, some green tea, and some chocolate.
Then: I'll be fine and dandy.

I hope.