Evilicious

Ladies, we all know PMS sucks ass.

For some reason, this month I am feeling particularly evil.

I saw some dude that just had skin cancer removed from his face. I can't stand this dude. He bugs the living crap out of me, even on a good day. It's nothing he's done, it's just HIM... the mere fact of his existence. Anyway, he walks up to me with this big bandage on his face, and I couldn't muster up a single shred of sympathy for this poor little troll. The only thought that came to my head was, "REALLY???"

There was some lady who needed to be let out of my unit after a visit to a resident. I stopped what I was doing and walked her all the way down to the elevator, where she stopped and said, "You know what? I changed my mind. I think I'll stay for a while longer." Okay, everyone knows how it infuriates me to be interrupted when I'm really busy. This really pissed me off. I stewed about it for about half an hour until she came back and asked me to let her out again. I swear to God, all the way down to the elevator I had visions of pushing that lady in the back so hard that her head would snap back, her road-kill-like wig would go flying, and she would do a beautiful faceplant into the ugly carpet. Of course, I would never actually do anything like that, but the thought and the desire were there.

Mike and I were headed for the liquor store to get some hooch to calm my rage, and all the way there I was full of evil rants about the drivers and pedestrians around me. "Wow, lady. You must have a really long neck to support all those extra chins." "Oh my God, was that a man or a woman?" "Nice. Once again, I've managed to end up in the Retard lane." "I want to rear-end your crappy rustmobile so bad I can taste it." Even Mike, who knows me better than anyone, was a bit shocked at my rancor. He was smart enough not to comment (I think he was a little afraid of me by that point), but I could see it all over his face. So I made myself shut up for the rest of the trip. Oh yes, I bit my evil little tongue.

And why is it that, when I start to rant about my craptacular day and everything that's bugging the hell out of me, people start to laugh??? Is Donna on Progesterone Overload really all that funny? Why are you laughing??? Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

This bout of PMS really needs to end before I go postal and end up on the evening news