Jan 31 2009
Could It Be A Bad Day And NOT PMS!!!
This morning I’m not feeling exactly romantic. Instead I feel like exploring a little into another one of those topics that can gun down any romantic feeling I’m having. There are a few occurrences that can do this for me actually. Sometimes you’re feeling wonderful about yourself, thinkin’ you look hot and your man takes one look at you and says, “Really? You’re wearing that?”
Ouch!
Instead of going down my list of ‘moment’ killers I’ll move on to the topic at hand. (Keep an eye peeled for those moment killers though they’ll make you laugh and help you with a defense.) Today I shall rant about hormones and the lack of understanding men have for ours. They understand their own very clearly but either have no respect for ours or no education on them. I have a feeling all women will agree on this. (If you don’t or you have the special husband or significant other who actually comprehends female needs, please look into having him cloned for those who aren’t so lucky.)
As little girls if we threw a tantrum, got cranky, or cried, our parents or lookers on would say we were sleepy or hungry, or having a bad day. Normally those words resulted in a deed to take care of what we required to remedy the situation. A much-needed nap when we were sleepy. A snack if we were hungry. And if it was a bad day, we received a hug or some special attention. Now as adult women if portray those same actions we are instantly diagnosed with PMS.
Yes, there are those certain days our way of thinking make us diagnose ourselves with PMS. The day where your favorite clothes just don’t fit right or your skin hurts as well as your head. Nothing can make you happy, not even your favorite shoes or the fanciest pair of underpants you own. Even worse those dreaded days all women experience, even if they don’t want to admit it, the day where you want to lay around in your sweats, eat chocolate, watch bad television and cry.Who, I ask you, has the right to immediately dismiss our bad days as PMS? Moreover, who forgot to tell men PMS only happens at a certain point of the month? PMS has become the instant dismissal for men who do not want to deal with us. I understand they use our monthly curse as an umbrella to all emotional outbursts, but am not ready to accept it. Even worse when it really is PMS why do men not understand when they point it out they only make the circumstances worse? In my opinion no one should be allowed to diagnose PMS…. but us. Has anyone thought, that maybe, just maybe, women have bad days, and our attitude has nothing to do with our dreaded visitor?
Here is my perfect scenario: The morning starts out bad and I am nowhere near my period it’s just a yucky day. My hair looks terrible, my t-shirt is on inside out without my knowledge, and I have a huge pimple. (The kind of pimple that needs its own zip code and no amount of concealer can hide.) I stick on a ball cap, pray no one notices the alien growing out of my chin and leave the house. (Still not knowing my shirt is on the wrong way.) The first person I see and know does not look at me and say the dreaded words, “Ah, that time of the month again?” But instead says the perfect thing, the one sentiment that actually might help get me out of my funk, “Are you okay? Bad day?” How perfect would that be?!?!
Just because I’m a little out of sorts or I want to eat hamburgers three days in a row followed up by a nice binge of chocolate and black and white musicals, does not mean ‘It’s my time of the month.” I’m just having a BAD DAY!!!!
What happened to those great days of childhood when someone knew what you needed? Why does it seem the only people who can understand you are having a bad day without making any reference to PMS are your girlfriends? Lastly will men ever learn sometimes we just need a hug or to hear we are pretty? Instead of getting the look of death or making us cry a little compassion would do the trick! For crying out loud!!! It’s not always PMS!!! Women have bad days too!!!
(Wait… I think I need to count the days on the calendar. Yep… I have PMS!)
