Mood Swings

I'm not sure men can ever properly understand the force of nature that is PMS. There is evidence that men also have a monthly hormonal cycle that does cause some PMS-type symptoms, but the timing is harder to nail down...well, for obvious reasons. I've known some men that could give us girls a run for our money, but most of them seem to be blissfully ignorant of the ravages of a hormonal tsunami. The smart ones have figured out that it is NEVER acceptable to write off a woman's mood as PMS, even if she knows that is precisely why she is being bitchy. Just because the feelings are coming from a hormonal source rather than a rational one, doesn't make them any less real, and dismissing a woman's feelings for any reason - ESPECIALLY when she is already in a highly irrational place - is always going to be bad news. Now, that being said, the smart women catch on pretty quickly to when they're PMSing so when they do try to defenestrate a coworker, they can do it with a disclaimer so that said coworker doesn't take it personally when they're plummeting to their death.

Suffice it to say, it sucks. Being in a bad mood is already not fun - but not being able to figure out why you're in that bad mood, or even worse, KNOWING why but also knowing there's absolutely nothing that will make it go away except time, can make it pretty difficult to get through the day. Mine is kind of like having bipolar disorder for a week - I can go from happy to phenomenally pissed off at the blink of an eye, but the "happy" is more of a manic state than anything that would normally pass for contentedness, and the pissed off is...well...the words "duck" and "cover" come to mind. I get wicked fatigue, and we're not talking "gee, I was a little short on sleep last night and wouldn't a catnap be nice?" we're talking, "I think I just accidentally chased two Benadryl with a shot of Nyquil." The logic centers of my brain shut down and it's like I can actually feel my synapses misfiring - it takes me 2-3 times as long to do even the simplest calculations at work (I usually have to write out arithmetic I would normally do just in my head or on a calculator), experiments don't work that should be no-brainers, it even feels like my motor skills suffer. I can always tell it's setting in when the combination of fatigue and snippiness are strong enough to register as abnormal - when I'm literally falling asleep at my desk and my Labmate tolerance drops to zero. Most of the time, I can laugh at her silliness because damn it, she IS cute, but there's always that one week that I just can't listen to her without boiling inside. These are the times when I take a step back, and find things to do with myself that will keep my social interaction at a minimum.

This has been one of those weeks.

I noticed a couple of days ago just how many things were PISSING ME OFF and how many were making me IMPROBABLY HAPPY. And I decided to sift through some old posts to see if there was a pattern to my rants. It's actually uncanny if you know what to look for - there are certainly other times when I write bitchy posts, and there are some times when I'm hormonal but not feeling inspired to write about what's pissing me off, so it's a subtle trend, but clearly identifiable to the only one of us who knows exactly how I was feeling as I wrote each post. So I decided this time to just blog some of my ups and downs from the past few days.

So without further ado, I present my Mood Swings:

I HATE when people walk unnecessarily close to me, usually on the stairs in the subway. It's not okay to cut someone off in traffic, and it is also not okay to cut them off on a stairwell. Fuck off, lady, this is my personal space and there is no reason you need to be so close to me. Interestingly enough, a person's concept of what constitutes a reasonable no-fly zone around their neighbor seems to be inversely related to the volume their iPod is set to. Why don't you just get your bitch ass back in the kitchen and make me some pie?

I LOVE banh mi. Also known as vietnamese subs or Saigon subs. Is it really so wrong if the one great love of my life turns out to be a sandwich? They do seem to contain fructose, so it's a slightly abusive relationship, but he told me he didn't mean it, that it won't happen again, and it only happened because he loves me so damned much. I want believe him, and dammit, I'm gonna.

I HATE stupid questions. "What's in the well plate?" "Alcohol, I'm cleaning it out." "Cleaning?" "Yes, I actually USE the wells, so I clean them out with alcohol when I'm done with it." "You put things into the wells?"
Yes. I actually use the plate for its INTENDED PURPOSE. Imagine that.
"Yes." "Is there fluorescein left in the wells?"
Um, that would be THE REASON I AM CLEANING IT.

I LOVE H&M. I walked out with a skirt, a dress, and a blazer for $55. Oh, Scandinavian design, why you so good to me?

I HATE crazy people on the subway. At least when they cross the line from humorous babbling into yelling at you for not sitting by them.

I LOVE crazy people on the streetcar. Apparently, insanity has a manicure.

I HATE loud cell phone conversations on public transit. Or anywhere in public, really, but on transit you're forced to be in close proximity to the conversation, which makes it far more annoying. I really don't need to know what you're picking up for dinner, or who's picking up the kids, your secret recipe for cold fusion, or your peculiar fondness for hamster porn.

I LOVE dairy.

I HATE when people respond to an e-mail and have clearly not actually read what they are responding to. I have told you that the problem does not exist on my end and have asked how I am supposed to fix a problem that my program doesn't think exists. Your response was, "the problem is still there and I strongly recommend you fix it on your end." THAT IS NOT A VIABLE SOLUTION.

I LOVE riding on (uncrowded) streetcars. On a nice day, the air circulation is lovely, the ride is smoother than a bus, but infinitely more scenic than the subway.

I HATE people who insist on talking shop when I just want to drink my beer in the sunshine after work.

I LOVE the guy who lifted my laptop bag to simplify my attempt to squeeze into the awkwardly-placed but last-remaining empty seat on the bus. He also made friendly chat with the rather unassumingly pretty girl sitting next to him, and when he got up to leave the bus, I realized that his son was sitting opposite him, and they were wearing matching hats. Too cute.

I LOVE/HATE the guy who got up from his seat, moved to the front of the bus to let the blind man who had just gotten on know there was an available seat, and guided him gently to the spot he had just vacated. That was a truly lovely thing you just did. But did you have to nearly take out one of the guy's kids with your laptop bag as you did it?

I HATEHATEHATE the "Tag Huntresses." I've been staring at those stupid ads on the subway for DAYS, and just when I thought it wasn't possible to dislike them any more, I manage to serve up yet another hot slice of loathing in their general direction. Bitch ain't even that hot.

That's all that comes to mind right now. Stay tuned for the next installment in, oh, about 28 days.