Bren vs. PMS

I hope I didn't offend anyone by Sunday's post. I am not a vegetarian at all and love meat way too much to be sad (sorry......!!) but I realize that not everyone is that way. So if the graphic photos of crustaceans being boiled to death was too much, don't fret, because today we're going to talk about something more uplifting: PMS! 

You know you can always count on a hormones-related post at least once per month, because after the crying and pain, my meltdowns are kind of funny. 

On Saturday morning, Ian and I had fallen into our usual routine: I was on my computer stalking my blogs, and Ian was watching some sort of historical/educational/sports-related TV. That morning happened to be the Dog Whisperer, a show fascinating to Ian's psychology degree/counselor mind. He analyzes the dog whisperers movements, the way the dog responds, and even compares it to how that's the way that kids should be raised. I just like the dogs. 

While he studied the ways of a dog whisperer, I had also noticed a red spot on my nose that looked like it had the potential to form into a cyst like I had on the end of my nose in 8th grade (absolutely horrific). I took it upon myself to Google diagnose myself with skin cancer and as I looked at pictures of people who had their noses mangled by having growths removed, I freaked. One point for PMS.

We decided to head to the pet store to play with puppies, after I fully examined my nose in the mirror and Ian tried to convince me that I wasn't dying. I must say, if a sweet mini doberman pinscher in the arms of your handsome husband doesn't make you melt, I don't know what will.

After we had sufficiently overwhelmed the poor thing, we headed to Trader Joe's to stock up and stop in the other pet store. The first pet shop was small and quiet; the next one was a madhouse. Kids running all over the place, animals all over the place; we had to get in line to play with the beagle that we wanted. When we finally got into the room, this little guy was absolutely NUTS. It was running all over the place, biting my boots...so naturally, Ian took this opportunity to try out his dog whispering skills. 

Here's where the PMS comes in. For some reason, this irritated me to no end. As Ian tried to calm down the dog and make weird noises at it, I kept freaking out more when it would come bite my boots (they were expensive!). Ian told me I had to stay calm, but how was I supposed to stay calm?! Not to mention I had to go to the bathroom. I was officially done with dogs. PMS: two points.

So we went to Trader Joe's, I relieved myself, and we got free pizza samples. I was happy again. PMS 2,  BREN 1. 

We came home and I plopped onto the couch and happened to catch the Elizabeth Smart Lifetime movie. When she was reunited with her family in the end....oh boy, bring on the waterworks again. I sat on the couch blubbering "can you even IMAGINE?" and then decided I really, really missed my sister. Point for PMS. 

As I flipped to Miss Congeniality, Ian started making the lobsters. They boiled away in the pot, but the water in the pot kept boiling over. Ian wasn't really concerned by this, but it was the end of the world to me because water was getting everywhere. 

"It's just water! It will evaporate!" Says the husband.

"But it's making a mess!" 

I think it was at this point that I walked away in a huff. And returned to the delicious feast that you read about the other day. 

After dinner, I decided to give up giving up chocolate for Lent, and enjoyed some Girl Scout cookies while we cuddled on the couch and watched Young Frankenstein (a little overrated, if you ask me). So really, it turned out to be a good day.

All's well that ends well with a little chocolate, I always say.