Graco = teh WHIP! Our swing motor conked out. They are sending us a new motor assembly. FOR FREE!

Much calm-ma vw

I love the singing suggestion. Old standards (Mr. Sandman, Dream a Little Dream, Summertime) or folk songs of my past ALWAYS calm and refocus me. Plus what Sparky said about dark corners. Hard to be down when your voice is lifted.

ION:

Note to self. Raging PMS and Spring Fever, when mixed become combustible. Asbestos gloves suggested.

I woke up this morning, sore in all the girlie places, puffy, irrational and weary in ways that I am not usually. I took one look around my apartment and went into a spasmodic fit over the doghair!everywhere and the disorganization that has really been oppressing me.

I'm normally a very tidy kind of gal, but lately I've just been so occupied by things other than the vacuum and dust rag.

Solution? Clean like a mean thing.

Plus? Call the laundry to take all the big stuff and wash things I've been putting off for ever and a century. It'll be nice to get it all done at once, right?

When the stuff came back, how much did it cost? Can't guess? I never would have.

US100.00

Holy cats on a crutch. I nearly passed out. I figured I was splurging $50 and that was nervous-giggle inducing indulgence.

Gack.

Ah well. It IS done. And I'll spend the time I didn't spend doing laundry to make those 100 smack back.

But still? That kind of shock in my condition can be dangerous. Hide the sharp objects.

Beej, I think you got all of my PMS. Because I was entirely surprised to get cramps and what my Mom still calls "Auntie Flo" today. No PMS. Nada. Zip.

Weird. But cramps now, and a backache. I get my hair cut in 20 minutes, and then I'm headed for home and the heating pad.

Beej, I think you got all of my PMS.

Hey now. Just because I'm being quiet about my homicidal urges does not mean I'm not PMS'ing. I'm just too busy hiding the bodies and eating a Buster Bar.

FCUK!! Damn double-post.

t stabbity

That happens to me sometimes too. Can never predict which will be quiet and which will be panicked months.

Autie Flo. What a riot. Never heard that one before.

I hat teh backache. And, for me, there is the sighing. Can't figure it out. Like I've lost oxygen or something. Big, fat, woeful sighs.

I hope the haircut lifts your spirits and yay for the heating pad. The stuff of the gods when I'm bleeding.

Bless you for controlling your homocidal urges. I'm with ya.

And on a completely, nausea inducing mood swing... How great is my dog? I have a plate of chicken wing bones on my couch next to me. Bartleby walked up and sniffed it. I said, "leave it." He looked at me mournfully and then walked over to a sunbeam on the floor and curled up.

I so love that he's so good.

Okay, I'm getting weird. Maybe I should go clean more. Or bludgeon something.

Curling up in a sunbeam is a very sane response to life's disappointments.

Literally or as a state of mind, Hec?ETA: Note new act as if tagline...maybe if I look at for hours I will be.