Wake up after tossing and turning all night because you just couldn't get comfortable. Make your children's lunches without complaining, even though all you really want to do is sit on the couch in a zombie-like stupor. Get the kids off to school and then come home and clean up everybody's crap and get angrier and angrier the longer it takes you. Take a hot shower and realize it's doing absolutely nothing for your mood. Realize that you have PMS and you're angry for no apparent reason, AND there's nothing you can do about it. Think about saying a dozen swear words, but don't because you're a good Mormon girl who doesn't use such language. But dammit to hell, PMS sucks! Put on your most comfortable pair of jeans and favorite hoodie, because it's just going to be that kind of day. Sit down and make a grocery list and mute the Rachael Ray show because even though you like her recipes, you couldn't care less about the latest gadgets to give your valentine.
Get in your car and drive down the steep, icy mountain at high rates of speed with the radio turned waaaaay up loud, because driving fast often cures a bad mood. Make a stop at The Store for a $2.50 Ruby Snap cookie. Yes, singular. And you don't care that it costs $2.50 because the cherry chocolate filling is instantly calming to your soul, which makes it a good investment for peace at home. Continue on to the other grocery stores and lament the fact that everything seems twice as expensive and it makes you feel really old because you remember exactly what you paid for that same loaf of bread ten years ago. After grocery shopping and wondering what in the heck you dropped a hundred bucks on, go to Beto's because let's face it, as good as the cherry-chocolate cookie was, all you really want when you have PMS is salt. Get yourself a 99-cent burrito that ends up actually tasting pretty good, even though you wish that Beto's was still Sonic, because a cherry lime-ade would really hit the spot.
Drive home, radio still loud, and pretend to be nice when the room mom calls to finalize plans for the next day's class valentine party - even though the LAST thing you want to do is spend two hours with 25 sugar-intoxicated 3rd graders. Wolf down your burrito and put the groceries away before pick-up time begins. You could make them walk, but there are maniacs out there who like to drive down the icy mountain at incredibly high rates of speed.
Take them shopping because they want to pick out valentines treats for their dad, and what kind of monster would that make you if you said "no"?
Come home and start dinner and undo the button on your most comfy jeans because there's no sucking in when you're this bloated. You make a shrimp stir-fry because that's what sounds really good, even though you know 50% of your children will complain. Enjoy a family dinner around the table even though, for no apparent reason, you want to yell at everyone. Finish your dinner and put on your elastic-waist pajama bottoms because the jeans are now the most uncomfortable article of clothing in your entire wardrobe.
Eventually, you make your way back into bed, praying either for the week to end quickly or the sweet relief of death. Whichever comes first.
