After two weeks of spotting and monster PMS from hell, my period finally started today. And not a moment too soon. I was about ready to go in up to the elbow and rip out my ovaries with the business end of a corkscrew.

I hate being hormonal. For days I've been weepy and depressed and cranky, filled with self-loathing and despair, mentally rehashing all my flaws and shortcomings and failures from the cradle on, blaming myself for everything that has ever gone badly with anyone who has ever known me.

Hysterical weeping finally subsided by morning to kind of a grumpy, stomping-around-feeling-sorry-for-myself kind of thing, accompanied by barely intelligible grunts and mutters in the general direction of the idiots who kept calling my phone at work every two goddamn seconds all morning long and being stupid as all fuck.

I mean, for fuck's sake. Is there something inherent in the process of making a phone call that causes sudden attacks of blithering idiocy? They can't remember who they meant to call. Or can't seem to contain themselves from telling me their life story in excrutiating detail, knowing full well I'm not the person who can help them, while they can fucking HEAR my phone lines beeping frantically in the background with other callers trying to get through. Sometimes it's just the little things that annoy... for example, if you tell me the person's extension, you don't need to also tell me their name. I can poke in the numbers just fine without knowing who they belong to. How about saving your breath and my eardrums?

Also... I hate to be petty, but what the hell. When I tell you the person you are calling is on another call, and you cut me off abruptly to say "I'll hold".... are you aware that YOU HAVE NO POWER TO HOLD, UNLESS I GRANT IT TO YOU, FOOLISH MORTAL???? HUH???? ARE YOU???? GO AHEAD, YOU JUST TRY AND HOLD IF I DON'T WANT YOU TO. WHAT'S THAT, YOU SAY YOU GOT CUT OFF? YOU SAY YOU GOT ROUTED TO A MUSTY OLD VOICEMAIL BOX OF AN EMPLOYEE WHO HASN'T WORKED HERE IN 4 YEARS? HUH. IMAGINE THAT. MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY ASKING "MAY I HOLD PLEASE?" A LITTLE COURTESY WOULDN'T FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU ARROGANT PRICK.

Bastards have all kinds of words I don't need, got all kinds of fucking time to tell me their life story but when it comes to pleases and thank you's, all of a sudden everybody's in a big fat hurry. Turdburgers.

Apparently PMS causes stupidity as well as crankiness, or at least that's the story I'm going with. See, I impulsively purchased this fitness magazine I'd been leafing through at the checkout yesterday because the headline said I could look 5 years younger without surgery! Whooohoooo!

So I'm reading the magazine today, and I see this article singing the praises of this new "miracle" face serum that Demi Moore and some other Hollywood old-bat types are using to keep themselves looking fly, and the magazine is telling me that it is clinically proven to reduce the appearance of wrinkles, and I'm skeptical but kind of intrigued so I go to the website and they're offering free samples so I give them my credit card number to pay for the $2.95 shipping, and write myself a note that I have to remember to cancel before the two-week trial is up so they won't send me a new bottle every month til eternity ends for the low low sale price of $49.95 conveniently auto-charged to my card.

And then I go back to reading my magazine, and the next little article I read is where some doctor is saying that eating your own boogers is good for you.

I have apparently stumbled across the Weekly World News of fitness magazines, and given someone my credit card number based upon advice obtained therefrom, to obtain a product that promises to restore my lost youth.

Unsurprisingly, I did a Google for some evidence of the clinical studies that proved the effectiveness of my youth serum, and all 15 bazillion of the hits that came back are from cheesy websites selling said serum, websites with reassuring names such as "www.AsSeenOnTv.com," "www.TheresASuckerBornEveryMinute.com" and "www.ThatWouldBeYou,Dumbass.com".

Before I smear this junk on my face, I think I better check the ingredient list and do a search. I'll probably find out that "vyo-serum" is the chemical name for snot.

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Last Five
Crappy job crap, weird neighbor, and someone whose baby I apparently want to have - 2006-05-08
Live from the dump - 2006-04-09
Kind of like a muzzle for your brain - 2006-03-29
...and then she fell ass-first into my cereal bowl - 2006-03-28
Playing catch-up - 2006-03-27

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