Monday, June 3, 2013


  It's that time of month. Well, almost. It's coming. It should be feared like "Winter is coming" in Game Of Thrones. This one is going to be a doozy. My periods are either very emotional or very physical. Luckily, they're one or the other. Sometimes I feel I should equip myself with a bomb shelter and hole up until it's over. This is one of those times. There's lots of anger brewing inside me. Uncontrollable, Hulk-like rage. Today, I just found myself indiscriminately yelling at people as I drove. I was like Archie Bunker behind the wheel. "Look out, van of Jews!" or "Don't pull out on your bike, Chinaman." and "Watch out, white dude!" I felt like everyone was conspiring against me to get to work. This is after waiting 20 minutes for my roommate to get out of the shower and move his car because he blocked me in. How much manscaping can you do? I thought guys just washed their junk, their hair and bailed. I don't know what took him so long. So, late for work, lack of sleep and premenstrual craziness did not add up for good times. This period seems to have brought immense anxiety over money, too. I feel like I should be chain smoking like Denis Leary as I stress over things. Not enough money for the bills and shit I need. How much more can I scale back? I already eat Chef Boyardee everyday for my lunch/dinner. My only luxury is a cup of coffee at work. If I have to give that up, I'll cause someone grievous, bodily harm, for sure. I've seriously contemplated selling my used underwear online for extra cash. Yes, it really exists. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Or dirty underwear. I've researched it; you can also sell stockings. Really a cash cow, if you're so inclined. Am I? It's starting to look better and better. When I see people buying frivolous things, I get enraged. This is most likely how Marx got started. He was probably coming home from buying his Spaghetti-o's and saw someone at Panera reading their Kindle and eating an $8 sandwich. This happens to me almost everyday. One day, I'll snap, yelling "Aristocrats!" out my window. For now, I'll just sit here and stress  and listen to my stomach growling.