Dear Macia,
Daaaang girl, you musta robbed a den of snakes of all their sexiness cuz I ain’t NEVER seen such a slither on a woman to make me shiver like this.
Warmly,
h

PMS is burning, nay, simmering inside me. Oh Joy.
The best indicator of PMS for me besides the general crankiness (because, really, how can you discern the general crankiness from the PMS crankiness?) is that I want to pick fights. I really do. At any given time I have the special short list of people with whom I want to pick a fight with. Of course, i love fighting with these particular people because it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. It’s a quick and easy operation to get in, attack and jump out.
Sigh, I couldn’t fight with anyone today because Mark and Ethan told me not to. Stupid Mark and Ethan trying to keep me on the high road. Dumb levelheaded Mark and Ethan keeping me from saying something I might possibly regret (though I doubt I would regret it, I mean at least not until they looked up half the words in the dictionary).

Fine. Be that way, guys, see if I care.