It's Monday! That means it's time for "Conversations from My Closet"...
I woke up this morning in a mood. I wasn't exactly hating life, but I wasn't loving it either. Everyone was annoying me and everything was bugging me. I hadn't even left my room or spoken to a soul, but this was my reality nonetheless. It didn't take me or anyone else I live with too long to figure out I was suffering from P.M.S. Or rather, everyone else was suffering from my P.M.S. because it really wasn't bothering me all that much. Then I made the mistake of trying to get dressed. I had a closet full of clothes and absolutely nothing to wear. I hated everything. I didn't have the right shoes, the right clothes, the right anything. That is when my P.M.S. started to bother me.
My husband has figured out that there is a direct correlation between the severity of my P.M.S. and the length of time it takes me to find something to wear. If he walks into the bedroom and the bed is covered with discarded clothing, he knows he better run like hell! I have been known to try on about 20 articles of clothing making various ensembles, changing variations, shoes, accessories, even underwear trying to put together something on that doesn't make me cry, scream or cringe. This process ultimately ends up with me wearing one of my go-to schlump outfits of baggy shorts, a baggy dress or baggy sweatpants. This is not a good thing for anyone.
I had one of those days today. My closet had little or nothing to say to me. It was silent in its disapproval of both my mood and my outrageous expectations. Isn't it amazing that once P.M.S. kicks in I suddenly have the need to look like Cindy Crawford? Funny how once my hormones become completely out of whack I can't stand any of my physical flaws. I also don't have any sense of humor about any of them. Without a sense of humor, my closet has little or nothing to say to me. Come to think of it, without a sense of humor, no one has much to say to me. Could it be the red horns protruding from my forehead and steam coming out of my ears?!
After giving up in frustration, I stomped to the kitchen for breakfast. Today's breakfast consisted of a half of a Twix candy bar, a chocolate chip granola bar, a few diet cokes over ice and a blood pressure pill. After Tim took in that breakfast scene, he loaded up the boys and headed for the hills. Literally. They went for a hike and I went back upstairs for a nap. I'll wait until I regain my sanity, sense of humor and hormonal balance before trying to resume any sort of conversation with my closet.
See you back here next week. In the meantime, you can find my family somewhere in the White Mountain National Forest.
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