Friday, June 1, 2012

Woe is me

Broke my favorite bowl tonight. Sat on the kitchen floor and wept hot, salty tears.

Didn't feel any better.

This is what PMS does to you. I probably would have cried anyway because I loved this Thing as much as any girl could love a Thing, but PMS makes this minor accident into a Monstrous Tragedy. It makes you wake up and look at your beloved with spite and bile. It fills you with unutterable woe, turning a long to-do list into a dark tunnel of despair. It makes me want to skip the writing group I have never been to because I have nothing prepared. It makes me see my child as an equal adversary, and I find myself arguing with him like I would a grown-up or like I am a child. It's like low-blood sugar hungry-angry* that persists for days on end and cannot be ameliorated with a granola bar.

Do I glue the bowl, and put stuff in it, this making it a reminder of my stupid klutziness, or do I throw it away? Do I bury it in the back yard complete with prepared words and black garb?

I may never eat cereal again.

1 comment:

Ack!Tivity said...

Ugh. Hate that. I lost my most favourite mug. One that couldn't be replaced. I cried too. It was an awesome, hand thrown mug with a sheep on it.

In other words, I feel your pain. I had to throw mine away.