Hazard Warning

Can someone please produce a

'DO NOT APPROACH,

TELEPHONE,

EMAIL OR TALK TO -

HAS PMS, WILL BITE'

- t-shirt for me?

My usually exemplary behaviour could have, possibly, got me arrested, fined, fired, ignored for the rest of my natural days by everyone who tried to speak to me this week as I went on a rampage to collect enemies and destroy property (well, I ripped off the plastic sealing up my mail box in a fit of anger, does that count?)

It also meant that my normal super-lovable, friendly, helpful, empathetic teachery self sat in a classroom with students wanting to pull a Marjorie Dawes on them:

"Eh? What's that you say, Meera? Can't understand a bloody word."
[Little Britain - Fat Fighters, bla bla bla]

And when a three-year old was pissing around and scraped her finger and then whinged I wanted to tell her to stop being such a pathetic wuss. (Okay, I eventually went and got her a plaster to shut her up and to put on her microscopic scrape).

You see my point? I've been a nightmare, and I won't even go into the other conversations I shouldn't have had these past two days.

My standard response to 'how are you, Jo', became a grunt and a shrug.

I've wanted to scream at the inconsiderate fuckers who've woken me up, stepped on my heal, shoved past me, made me wait, breathed too loudly, spoken too slowly, thought too long...

Now, I could say this is karma for not having gone to church on Sunday (maybe I should open a 'Church of Jo' - we could have a font with sake in it, what do you think?) or maybe I'm tired, rundown, have a chest infection AND PMS - but still, eh...

... it's shit being a female sometimes, but as of this evening, PMS has gone....

On a brighter note, one of my oldest mates from London is coming to see me for two weeks end of next week and I'm rather bloody excited about it :D