This may just be the strangest blog I ever write (fingers crossed) but I’m writing it anyway. Here’s the topic – the most dreaded three letters in the English language – P M S. That’s right, I’m blogging about THAT time of the month. Well, less THAT time than THOSE symptoms. I’m either brave or stupid and I’ve been called both so lets leave it at a draw.

I have never had cramps in my life. *ducks various flying objects* Blame my mother, she hasn’t either. Now my sister, totally different story. Terrible cramps. I tell her it’s the meanness in her. And I’m totally right. Trust me, if you met her, you’d agree.

So, back to the topic. I never really had any of the traditional telltale signs that Aunt Flo was making her approach. And since I never paid much attention, it was no big deal. But now I’m old…err….more mature. Yeah, I recognize the signs now.

Take Wednesday for instance. I woke up so angry, I could have decorated various rooms in my house with fist sized holes in the walls. I’d have pummeled them I tell ya. In fact, in the morning I pulled out my iPod at work and played the angriest music I had. Grant it, I don’t have any Pantera or Megadeth on there, but Seether, Breaking Benjamin and Nickelback did in a pinch. Singing along with Breaking Benjamin on a chorus that says, “F*ck you, F*ck me!” made me feel a bit better.