At around 9:30 tonight, I found myself at the grocery store, in the dairy aisle, grabbing milk, cream, half and half, yogurt and cheese off the shelves. I shoveled them into the basket ignoring the other aisles and racing to the checkout. I threw my items on the belt and had my credit card swiped before the cashier could even begin ringing up my items. I tossed them into the car and flew home...
Why was I so frantic for an overladen cart full of dairy products, you might ask? Well. Let me explain.
March 17, 1989 (St. Patrick's day) radically changed my life forever. You see, that night two things occurred. I spent the night at Courtney's house (it was her birthday), and I also had my first period.
The ensuing hormone swings (aka PMS) that have led up to each subsequent occurrence of my little gift, have been a real pleasure to manage. It's gross understatement to say that my PMS is accompanied by 'irritability' -- that's like saying Charlie Sheen is just having a few personal problems. It takes just about all the self-control I have to navigate daily life without biting someone's head off for a few days. I'm also frequently unable to sleep, and have horrible bloating (uhhh, everywhere if you catch my drift)
In addition to my general anger management issues, there's also the cravings. And for me, they're never the same (which means I can't keep whatever it would be 'stocked' in the house for emergencies) and furthermore, the cravings always hit at the strangest, and frankly most inconvenient times. One night, at midnight, I sat straight up in bed craving blueberry pancakes. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fall back asleep. So, I hauled myself out of bed, went downstairs and made blueberry pancakes. Let me tell you, when I bit into them, I screamed like I was having the big one...if you know what I mean.
And as it turns out, at around 8:45 tonight -- I wanted dairy. I mean I NEEDED it. Some kind of dairy. ANY kind of dairy. So, I looked in my fridge and I was COMPLETELY out (of course), which meant, that I *had* to go to the grocery store. So, I put on some clothes (naturally I was already in my pajamas) and go to the grocery store, load myself down with my cow-generated products and head home. When I walked in the door, I dropped everything, grabbed the milk and poured myself an enormous glass and guzzled it, finishing it with a milk mustache. I poured another glass, drinking this one more slowly, and resisting the urge to drink out of the carton. After my third glass I was fairly sure that I was safe enough to go back upstairs, put my pajamas BACK on, and get BACK into bed. As if I really have time to manage my PMS cravings...*sigh*