PMS

So, Maybe my cheering actually did help the Oilers! I wasn't very loud, and I have absolutely no fingernails left, but we won, we won! The game seemed to be tied up the majority of the time, but that marvellous overtime goal. . .yes, Pisani will remain my hero; until the next game anyways.

I am sitting here, all showered and ready for my day. I have to finish up some courses on the computer. . . ech. I've got to pack for the camping trip I am leaving for tomorrow, and I have to finish that baking I mentioned earlier. It is still sitting on the counter, half done and a little sorry looking. Then I have to write a song for my cousin's bridal shower. Oh, yay. Not a single positive love song in my binder. GREAT. Tells you a little about my previous love experience, maybe?

But, best of all, are you ready for this? I have to do all of this with PMS!! Yes. Yes I know. The evil monster that likes to hang over us poor innocent women. It hurts. It bloats. Indeed, it sucks. Can we really be blamed for being just an ittsy bittsy on edge? I mean, I don't think I am too grumpy. . . although, some may disagree. Ah well, I suppose I have another forty years or so to figure out how to cope with it, cheerfully.