That’s right, lords and ladies, this week I’m blogging about that inexplicably sensitive yet terrifyingly hateful beast: Le Pre-Menstrual Syndrome.

(My friends are not sure if this is the most wisely chosen blog topic, but I have to go with what comes to me. And by “comes to me” I mean “the issue by which I myself am currently afflicted.” Besides, I eased you into this subject matter last week by talking about tampons, so you should be able to handle it.)

Now I have no intention of getting into the gritty details of PMS, but I would like to articulate how much it amazes me. No seriously, I’m in awe. Because PMS has this incomprehensible ability to take an average day and turn it into the Second Coming…only in this example, it’s the kind of Second Coming where you get left behind.

Case and point. Yesterday was not a good day for yours truly. It wasn’t an awful day but it wasn’t splendid either, and by the time it finally came to a close at 9:10pm (grad classes are horrendously long and late at night), I was ready to throw in the towel. But I was okay.

I call this "Hunter and Abigail."

That is, until I saw Hunter.

Poor Hunter didn’t do a thing but hug me and chat lightly about the events of his own day, but his mere presence seemed to trigger a “now it is time to WAIL” button in me. So before his very eyes the PMS monster attacked, and in just seconds I was gurgling and sputtering about how everyone in the whole world is horrible and how I’m completely inept and worthless and fat.

Does this scenario ring a bell to you?

You really needn’t answer that, because I’m presuming that it does. As a female who suffers from unexplained moodiness ever 28 or so days, I am keen at recognizing the symptoms in other members of my gender. And just like clockwork, my friends who are typically of sound mental states will collapse into fits of woe-is-me for two or three days every month. They’ll lash out and whimper and pout and glare, and then after 48ish hours something goes POOF! And the demons that were possessing them are gone.

It’s like watching a storm roll in over the horizon…you can see it coming and you know it’s gonna be bad, but all you can do is hunker down and wait for it to pass.

Since this is a phenomenal event experienced by half of the population (and since none of the world’s most genius doctors have figured out a way to make it STOP), I thought I’d do my part by bringing the dreaded PMS monster into the light…to force it out of hiding, and to make it known for what it truly is.

To put it simply, PMS is a short spasm of mental clarity. Its symptoms are similar to those displayed by victims of trauma (i.e. angry outbursts, fits of depression, and wailing/gnashing of teeth), and the only known treatment is chocolate and Friends episodes. It is not a complete psychological break as it may seem, but it is sort of like an emotional seizure. You know, like everything’s fine and then WHOOPS! Your emotions are seizing because of the latest Olive Garden commercial.

But the good news is, in the history of recorded time not one case of PMS has become a person’s permanent mental state. (This of course is based on my own conjecture, but I really think it’s true. Like, I’m at least 87% sure.)

So to the poor souls out there like Hunter, who are left blinking and stammering by the assaults of the PMS Monster, I encourage you to stay the course. Be strong. Buck up. And know that no matter how scary the PMSer is today, chances are the evil spirits will have left her by tomorrow.

But just don’t forget that one is never completely cured of le pre menstrual syndrome, so always keep the Dove chocolate on hand…and be ready for the storm to strike the next time your PMSer starts digging in her sweat pants drawer.

Much love.

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  1. Ashley
    08/02/2010 at 3:37 pm Permalink

    I was once reduced to tears by a Pizza Hut commercial for buffalo chicken pizza starring Jessica Simpson. NO reasonable explanation there. PMS strikes again.

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