I hope it helps (I'm sure DH does, too)

This last week I've been working like crazy to get a big deliverable done by yesterday afternoon. I was working on the weekend, 10+ hour days Monday and Tuesday, barely taking time for lunch, but I did it! I did it without flipping off my boss or yelling - that's a pretty good accomplishment right there - or anything. Which I really wanted to do once or twice when he kept going on and on about something I'd already said wasn't finished. Arrrrrghghghg!!

(Any guys reading this might want to wander away now because I'm going to talk about 'female stuff' now.)

Yep, I got my project done even while I was wanting to tell most everyone to eff off and leave me the eff alone for a minute, because the Prehistoric Monster Syndrome was rearing it's flaming, roaring head. You know when the sound of someone's breathing annoys you? Yeah, that's what I was dealing with. Just for kicks, the hormones would also randomly make the bottom drop out from under me. Literally, walking from the bedroom to our kitchen and suddenly I would just feel too depressed to breathe. Not that I do that anyway. [Score extra geek points if you know what I'm referring to! Or just follow the link...]

Sure, those feelings could just be from the stress of being under a microscope and wondering if I was going to get written up or fired for poor job performance, but, three things make me think this has been PMS a week "early" this month.
1.) Last month, it was a week early, so it could actually be time for it.
2.) I had the feeling this week of being in a brain fog and having to struggle with focus.
3.) Today, like a switch, I'm much clearer.

Anyway, I saw my Doc today. He said that he wouldn't think perimenopause, but he diagnosed PMDD. That's right. No pansy-ass regular Prehistoric Monster Syndrome for me. My hormones have decided to regularly firebomb the hell out of my inner balance. Making just about every encounter that particular week of the month a running internal dialogue of irritation about the stupidity of everything.

P.M.D.D. -- Psychotic Mood from Dealing with iDiots. Whadya think?

No matter what the label is -- The treatment goal is the same. Get those damned hormones under control!

The Doc gave me a sample of one of the brands of continuous birth control pills, the kind where you only get 4 periods a year. Yee-hah!

Obviously I Need a Lexus

Apparently when I switched from driving my old SUV to my new Accord, all the local streets and parking lots moved higher in response.

Those rat bastards.

I could post a close-up of the gouged, scratched, and peeled-up metal of the lower side of my new car, but it's too depressing. Who decided to put large concrete curbs around those posts at daycare, anyway?!?

And seriously, why do you need curbs around a useless piece of dead grass in a parking lot?!? That one got the *other* side of my car today!

I won't even talk about all the concrete curbs in parking spaces that have defiled my front bumper. I need electronic sensors around my car.

So, either they're out to get me or...nah, as my DH knows, it's never my fault. I blame the Romans.