Hello, dearest friends and acquaintances, fellow bloggers and readers of blogs.

I’ve gotta tell you, this blog may not be for my gentleman friends (gentlemen? Hmmm.) so read at your own risk, because I’m discussing PMS here.

I have got to have the wierdest PMS ever. Seriously.

I’m not talking about being totally emo or dish-throwing crazy or anything like that. Here’s what happens.

About a week and a half before it starts, I’ll have a day of cramps that just feels like lower back pain. I pop a couple Aleves and I’m good to go.

The entire week to even two weeks before it starts, I am completely, totally, out of my mind horny. Seriously. I can’t get enough. It’s kind of the added little bonus to being my boyfriend (in addition to the myriad other reasons, of course.).

For the last week before it starts, is when the wierd stuff happens. I don’t ever get psycho or anything (God forbid, I’m Canadian and we’re WAY too accommodating for that), I just get…wierd. I get a little paranoid, a little down on myself, feeling a little insecure I guess. I have a couple bad days where I get this vague feeling that all my friends hate me, no one really likes me, and my boyfriend is just waiting for the perfect moment (which of course would be the few days before my period) to dump me on my ass. I gain like five pounds, which really isn’t all that much, and I lose it all right away afterwards, but it definitely doesn’t help the “poor me” pity party that I like to throw myself once a month.

I also get a touch irritable. Mostly with stupid people, and also with work. I get really, really irritated at work. It’s really best if I just put on some headphones and just don’t talk. To anyone. At all. At this time of the month, just hearing certain people’s VOICES can irritate me. No matter how hard I try to hide it, I still end up having people asking me what’s wrong or if I’m okay. Of course, it’s always the people that are irritating me that are asking me that, and so the answer is an unequivocal, very LOUD “YES!” that I don’t say because I work with these people and damned if I’m going to use the “it’s that time of the month” excuse. All of which makes me even more irritable until I can’t fucking WAIT to get home so I can pig out on some pickles or something. Which is the other wierd thing that happens, I eat stuff like pickles, or cheese and miracle whip, or doritos and french onion dip.

This phase tends to last two or three days, but most people would never even know, it all just goes on in my head. Except for the few random “Fuck you”‘s to the stupid people. In my head, of course. Except when I say them out loud.

Then there’s always, without fail, when I start to get irrationally concerned that I’m pregnant. I’m not kidding, I do this every month. When I say irrationally, I mean, I even get freaked out when I haven’t had sex. I’m afraid of the immaculate conception or something. I get to where I’m on the verge of going out right this second and buying a pregnancy test. I make plans. I make contingency plans. I make contingency plans for the contingency plans. I rehearse how “the conversation” would go (and let me tell you, in the months where there really was no chance that I could even BE pregnant, those rehearsals are really, really wierd.) The last couple days stretch out like they will…never….end.

Then, suddenly, I will wake up in the morning and I am totally, completely in LOVE with the world. Everything is going my way, nothing bothers me. Irritability? Gone! Cramps? Meh. Horniness? IN FULL FORCE. Which unfortunately continues right up through the last day of my period. I get a week or two where I’m not jonesing for it every day, then it’s right back into it.

That last day makes up for all the crap the week(s) before. I can’t stop smiling, I will suddenly giggle when I’m driving down the road, just for the sheer fact that I am here, alive, today, and it’s sunny, and things are going SO WELL that I just want to hold my breath in case breathing will disturb this wonderfully fantastic clickiness I got going on.

Today was that day. And thank GOD! I am not pregnant. Again.