Psychic Rations

Breaking The Ice

Halleluja I am well and without cooties!

My trainer is back from Europe!

I'm back on track with my nutrition!

I know you are just bursting with excitement but all of this has happened in the last three days so, lets leave our frilly knickers in the 'special' drawer for the time being, I'll send a signal when total plan adherence exceeds three days.

Easter was a riot, we had hens nights, weddings, camping, shopping in Perth, visitors from Perth and chocolate - SO. MUCH. CHOCOLATE.  So much chocolate I have 8kgs to goal again *sigh*.   I'm not disheartened, just, I don't know - just *sigh*.  

I received the entry forms to the half marathon in the mail last week and for about two days I was really tempted, I miss running a lot - it was therapeutic and relaxing, it is my addiction.  I still do 30 minute stints with the bodybuilding but nothing beats distance.  I was incredibly tempted to commit but I eventually decided I want to focus on my lifting goals thus I declined (you might still find the form in the back of my diary just in case I change my mind ..  heh).  I am determined to get gorgeous googies, and a butt that can crack macadamias. 

At the moment life around here is changing.  The result is a lack of motivation on all fronts, nutrition, training and even my blog.  It's been nothing major or specific but enough of a tilt that I've needed time-out while I've re-established my rhythm.  The dynamics of the house are shifting as the kids get older and it has a ripple effect into all the areas of our lives.  It's not all bad, C and I have been spending heaps of time together and I haven't had to bust out the Voodoo Doll on him in like, forever. The downside is that I get edgy with change, and as fun as it can be turning into an anxious socail recluse with obsessive compulsive tendancies, I'd rather not.  I've really got my hands quite full nurturing my inner anal retentive.

I'm tired and I have to train in the morning so good-night for now, I'll continue navel gazing another time  

Strepsils, Infections, Parties and an elephant in the room

I have not trained since last Tuesday, I say this not as a confession but as a testament to the complete train wreck I have become. 

I was once told by a naturopath (or by someone of that professional nature)  that sometimes recurrent illness can be a reflection of a persons psyche, for example, someone who suffers from a recurring sore throat may feel gagged or unable to speak their mind in their daily lives. 

So, if we take that practitioners example and put that into a context with my ilnesses we can cogitate the following:

- There's shit on my chest I need to get off (big bastard chest infection - hacking up loogies)

- There's something up my nose (bugging me) that I need to get out  (sinus infection - copious boogers)

- I must feel that I am not heard and unable to speak my mind (lost voice and sore throat)

- I'm tired of listening to shit (ear ache)

- And lastly I think maybe I need to eat?  (really I'm not too sure, but my wisdom tooth on my bottom left tried to break my optimistic and sunny disposition for 6 days straight.  Normally it just signals every six months or so like a harbinger of pain, but this time it demonstrated the full retributory punishment for being the furthermost and least thought about dental attribute - surmise what you will from that manifestation, I'm either starving or I secretly want bite someone really hard). 

I'd rather go with the thought that it wasn't an ebullition that materialised as a bacterial onslaught because if my emotions are in control my physical well-being, then I am screwed.

As tough as it has been this last week, it hasn't all been phlegm and angst.  I will shine a golden ray on this painful and bleak instalment by telling you that being abhorrently ill for a lengthy period of time tends to renew one's appreciation for the little things in life.  Like say.....

- breathing without feeling the pain of the fallen Titans

- the ability to sleep with your mouth closed so that you don't drool all down the side of your own face

- a wee tickle in throat as opposed to coughing so hard that you eject your lungs, exposing all those lovely, little, inside-out alveoli 

Being that sick definitely teaches you lessons.  I shant ever quibble about minor ailments again, while the scent of death lingers in my nostrils as a stark reminder of what is really 'ill'. 

Now if you will, please raise your glasses in salute and cheer to the person responsible for painkillers!!

I've ingested more painkillers in the last week than I have imparted the F word, and that is really saying something.  Every time I was forced to move/swallow/blink it came with a very capital F followed by a grunted UUUUCK ..  If I had to eat, or get up, we had a F and an UUCK.  If I had to wince ..  well, you get the picture.  It was much like an adult version of the Sesame Street word train, but I didn't have enough steam to bring it all together so it stayed disjointed FFFFF ....... UUUUCK,     FFFFFFF ........ UUUUCK.  I must have sounded like a dying crow.  Mind you, a dying crow that downed pain medication like a bag of peanut butter M&M's and for that opportunity, I am truly grateful.  God bless the pharmacy and Mrs HomeAlone.

Now, just chuck in the mandatory birthday cake made by mum, a kids birthday party consisting of a dozen 9 year old "punks" tearing around my house,and a mobile phone dunked in a cup of coffee (RIP) and we can call it quits.

No training until further notice but I have stopped browsing online headstones

xx

 

2 Days of Victory - A Lifetime to go

First let me share the wonderful news that the camping store gave us an in-store credit on the useless leaky tent.  C and I are busily going through catalogue after catalogue to pick out our new one and  I would say we will be re-purchasing in the next week or so.  For me this is VERY exciting - but then I don't get out much.

The second noteworthy thing to happen is my personal training is not until 12 today, which means I get to sit here vegging in my jammies, drinking decaf coffee while I actually wake up for a change.  This as opposed to becoming lucid on a treadmill or under a load of weights is appreciated, embraced and drooled upon.  I have DOMS in my legs this morning that would make an elephant cry - *HEE!*

Now, on to that training thing - it's been going okay.  I have been doing enough to make improvements but my nutrition was letting me down in a big way.  Still holding onto my Christmas (plus) fat is not ideal and I did/do want to shift it, I just got used to eating copiuos amounts of crap.  Every day I would wake up and think 'today I won't eat the whole kitchen' but by the end of the day I had eaten the whole kitchen.  Looking at the situation objectively, having got through 2 years of consistent goody-goodness I was always destined for a break at some point, it's just such a scary thing.  I am grateful that my break only entailed a 6kg gain over the worst period of the year AND it was for an extended time of *cough*sixteenweeks*cough*.  Which was like *cough*twelveweeks*cough* more than I anticipated.  I don't know how I ended up on hiatus for so long but in some strange way now I feel fresher for it. 

It hasn't all been shits and giggles, there have been times when I have been petrified I would put all the weight back on again and the panic, dear Stolichnaya it was unbelievable - overwhelming and consuming, it turned me into a mess.  I would try and tell myself that I am different now and I would never be like that again but convincing myself was damn nearly impossible.  I couldn't ask anybody for help because I don't really have that kind of relationship with anybody where I can talk about my weight and my training in seriousness.  Unfortunately all anyone sees is the success, they don't see the fucked up head I fight with all the time.  There have been times in the past when I tried to talk about it but I was brushed off, 'you're not fat!', 'you'll be alright you'll get the weight off'  and the dismissive eye rolling (as helpful as it was) just made me feel insignificant and crappy.  I don't want to talk about the tears and tantrums, the grief, the lack of sleep or the swallowing fear anymore.  I've learned that I'm ok now doing this by myself, dealing with my own psychology and I'm keeping my head above the water as best I can.

I worry about my weight, I am always going to.  Body building may be my choice but it is as important to me as breathing.  I don't want to fail at this because if I do it is not like some discarded patchwork in the study.  If I fail at this it effects my life, my self esteem, my health and my wellness. I fight for myself every day, at the moment it takes all my energy and all my strength but I still do it.  I don't care that I am not what others want me to be and I don't care if anybody understands this - it is how it is. My focus right now (and for a good while to come I would imagine) is to not tear myself to shreds when I get angry - it's to take care of my heart when it is hurting - and above everything else I must look after myself.

For the last 16 weeks I have been nuttier than squirrell shit, but I have still managed to accomplish a few things: 

*I am not back on medication

*I'm bringing the things most important to me back into focus

*I am not back on medication

*Oh and I got my sorry arse back onto clean food, within my calories, following my macros while kicking my training back up to insane

How about them apples ....

Subscription To My Issues

Just a snippet from the norm at casa de 'G'  that had me end myself ..

Scene:  All the kids sitting up at the bar eating their dinner, Jessie and Demie engrossed in conversation between themselves, Georgia looking on and Amy not paying any attention to anything ....  Callum was fixing something by the sink and I was sitting at my computer. (Now would be an excellent time to note that I hate confrontations over a meal, it makes your dinner taste like shit.  It's hard to chew and swallow, and nothing sucks worse than crying while you eat.  It's one of those deep-seated psychological hates from my childhood which has me wickedly vehement about non-perpetuation)

Jessie & Demie:  "Blah blah blah about whatever, I don't really know as I wasn't listening hard"

Georgia:  "PENIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Everybody turned to look at Georgia with stunned expressions

Callum:  "Georgia why did you say that?"

Georgia: *Silence*

Callum:  "Georgia, why did you say that?"

Georgia:  *shrugs* "I don't know"

Callum:  "Don't tell me I don't know, I want to know why you said it .."

Georgia:  *silence and chewing really really hard on her food, eyes as big as saucers and budding tears in her eyes*

Callum:  "I want to know why you said that, I want to know the mindset behind it ..."

Me (exploding):  "Oh come on!  She said it get everyones attention and it worked, she wanted to be included!!  Seriously you are trying to talk mind-set to and eight year old!?!  Lets stick a bit of perspective on this - lets not forget that Amy called all the kids fuck-tards a few weeks back - penis is no big deal"

The split second the words "fuck-tards" came out of my mouth I felt cringe-worthy as a parent, but then the eldest three of my children fell off their stools and giggled helplessly in puddles on the tiled floor, clutching their sides from laughing so hard.  I looked at them and started giggling myself and I felt the tension that had mounted over those few minutes subside.  I realised I needed to make it light-hearted for them as much as for myself.  I had tensed so hard during that time that I almost cracked my own back teeth.  I saw the expression on Georgia's face and I was right back there, sitting at our own dinner table, being told off for some crap deemed important by a holier-than-thou hypocrite as my whole meal turned to a giant debacle that tasted like cardboard.  (I mean really *how* could I be berated for a messy room when he pee'd in the corner when he was drunk?  At worst I had hid a few school lunches and a years worth of vitamins but I never let rip with bodily fluids while under the influence - brownie points please).

The inappropriateness of the language had to be excused while my over-protective, anti-perpetuation avenger burst into action like a swashbuckling hero, rescuing (using the term loosely because Callum is actually a poufey little pussy cat with the kids) little Georgia from a not-so-threatening parallel I saw playing out in my warped minds eye where she is me and I was her.  Duh, nuh, nuh naaaaaahhhhh ...

But really, it was nothing like any of the manipulative, cruel, sadistic scenarios you could pluck out of my joyous childhood - *cough* projection-issues *cough*

The Prodigal Returns

These days I seem to start all my entries with 'it's been a while', however this time stating the obvious is going by the wayside because I am ornery and not in the mood to play the pleasantries.  Apologies forthwith; but truly, had I written in the last month it would have been incoherent rubbish so trust me, it was better this way.

There's been little to report on any front but I will do you the honor of a quick, numbered run-down (because we all know how much I love my numbered lists).  Hang on to your bits because it is really riveting ..

1.  Job = still waiting.  Multiple mining accidents will always funk up a greenies plans to get working.  C'est la vie.

2.  But I do have the coolest purple work boots (YAY!)

3.  College is all done - got my competencies in the mail and I passed

4.  Although I will miss having the mental stimuli I am thanking christ it is over

5.  Training = excellent. I have had my ups and downs with it but sitting on 56.8kgs isn't too shabby

6.  Due to number 5 I have some semi-impressive girl googies

7.  I have taken lots of trips to Perth and have had a beYOOtiful experience each time

8.  I've discovered skinny cow ice-creams

9.  I'm re-organising my personal life so I don't get sucked into anyone else's bullshit (because you know - I'm SO over the school-yard at like 33 fucking years OLD)  Also at the moment, I am crazier than an electrocuted barn owl so I think I've bigger things to worry about.

10.  I have been humbled by the kindness of a stranger.  A person I hardly know has offered to do something for me that is life changing and very close to my heart.  Not being all cloak and dagger but I am going ahead with it and I will share whats going on when I feel my fragile little self is ready (and dudes I am   F R A G I L E  ....  I have had more snivel moments in the last 6 weeks than I have my whole life so I am not sure what the hell is with that)

Notations:

So about those mining incidents from number 1.  There was a couple of them in a very short space of time.  Bugger.  I'm still going up there for sure, but when is anybody's guess (BOO!).  I'm trying to live as normally as I can but it is like living Christmas eve every single day without ever having Christmas actually arrive.  You start to feel like someone has wrapped a bunch of fake boxes and stuck them under the tree just to keep you hanging on.  However, nay shall I be thrust into the land of bitter and twisted - I am an optimistic soul who will continue reading the training manuals (obtained on one of my fabulous trips to Perth) and admiring my purple work boots to keep the working morale high.  Ok, so maybe not  high - if I were to scale it on a 1 to 10 I would say my morale is sitting at about 3 with threatened descent to a 2.

College - sweet, sweet college.  I obtained a wealth of knowledge that I shall retain forever (Huh?  what was the cut-off for high blood pressure again - like 220 or something?? ...  KIDDING! ...  no, really, I am only joking,  I know that is much MUCH higher than that you silly!) oh shit, hang on what was I saying?  Oh yeah retaining information; so I have learned a bunch of things that were highly interesting, self-evolving and excellent general knowledge for quiz nights.  Not that I would do a quiz night again but still, you never know, someone might sequester me at gunpoint ..  This whole notation for college is disjointed and annoying so I will quickly surmise: It's done and I am not taking it further.  The first reason is because I would rather go up north and drive trucks away from people.  The second reason is because it is not being offered here in Hicksville because of declining numbers.  Our class finished with 2 people. I won't really be keeping in touch with my fellow class mate but my lecturer (see photie) is on the great buddies list.  We girl bonded for sure and it makes hearts dink off my head just thinking about it.

On to the training part of my meager existence,  it's really slow going but very rewarding.  I have to keep changing up my diet to keep things moving but I am experiencing some success and only have 2 - 3 more kilos to go (which will make me nigh on 30 kilos down - holy cow!).  Then I will have to move into the maintenance phase and learn how to keep my arse skinny.  I love doing the weights and I still get to indulge in little 30 minute runs to keep my inner adrenalin junkie high, so all in all I have balance.  The only thing I am lacking is rest, I suck at it and have no idea how to accept it as a part of my week so I still go 7 days and I rotate body parts.  I know I need to get some rest in there somehow and I will figure it out, promise.  Nutritionally I am kicking butt, nice clean days with good macro's and great variety.  I'm about to do a strict 3 day paleo to see if I can't shift down into the low 56's. I'm losing friends over this but I am beyond giving a fuck.  I'm still me and if I can't be recognised in size 7 or 8 clothes then I really was never seen anyways.  I'm skinny, I like it, get over it.

My trips to Perth have been for all kinds of reasons, mostly just to get away but in the trip during the holidays I picked up my training and induction pack, re-fitted my work pants (King Gee are SO sexy - aruh) and spent some time on some training simulators ....  big kick butt training sims worth 1.5 million dollars each  *SKWEEEE*.  It was an opportunity that presented with Mr Middle Management and we took it and ran.  I honestly thought with my zilch heavy vehicle experience that I would be really awful at driving my truck, sim or not, but as soon as I sat in that seat I felt like I was home and I could feel the love for my job.  I will spare you the blow by blow details of the scenario's we went through but I have to tell you it was SO hard to sit and just go through the motions when I wanted to squeal and happy dance and lick the steering wheel.

My last trip to Perth was equally as brilliant, catching up with another good friend who is going through a major career change as well.  From selling yarn to prison guard she is doing fabulously and has a real enthusiasm for what she is doing (understandably because it is pretty exciting stuff, I won't ever be able to self tan again without thinking of "bronzing up").  She is keeping me enthused about my truck driving through the tedious wait and it was awesome being able to share the experience and have someone else appreciate what it is like.  Anyway, we went and had some Mexican food at a place with cute waiters and shitty service - then we wandered across the park and ate an obscene amount of ice-cream (actually I ate the obscene amounts, she had half a cone while I ate 5 scoops).  Then I spent the next hour as clenched as a proctologists waiting room as my lactose intolerance enacted vengeance on my gizzards and I got laughed at - a lot.  We planned out emergency stops on the way home from Freo and ferreted out an enjo cloth in the glove box in case of dire need, but thankfully I didn't have to stop to down trou in the salt bushes, or use my enjo cloth for anything other than what it has been intended for.  A natural, chemical-free, squeaky-clean butt is not on my Christmas list.

Skinny cow toffee sundae cups rock, thats all I have to say about that.

This next one is an interesting one.  I've been unwilling sucked into a quagmire of other peoples crap and it's time to extricate myself and worry about my own problems.  I can't control other people, what they say or do and who they chose to be around. I will in future be more careful as to which situations I expose myself to, will learn to say 'no' when I think the gathering will be less than conducive to a peaceful and fun situation, and I'm going to put up a troll warning outside my front door.  I'm ordering a serve of solitude with a side of grumpy little bitch.   I wasn't joking about that barn-owl thing and I have to get that sorted BEFORE anyone else lines up for their bit.

The last one I won't rave on about because that will frustrate everyone but I promise I will tell all when I get the barn-owl thing sorted.  It's not on par with a national secret and it would be no big deal for anyone else, but for me it's something extraordinarily special.  For now I am just going to keep it to myself because my trust and faith in everyone has hit an all time low and I want to enjoy this gift.  I want to explore how I feel about it and I want to understand why it means so much.  To hear anybody belittle the gesture or tell me it's no big deal would probably snap that little string of sane influence I am desperately clutching on to in the uncontrolled, raging river of gut-wrenching loneliness that consumes me daily.  This would undoubtedly result in eye gouging, scratching and a mouthful of filth laden language - coated in pink of course ..

Going to register for NaBloPoMo as an intervention for my own blog neglect

Love from the crazy barn-owl

Vroom Vroom

Yesterday was a really rough one dudes.  I was contacted by Mr Middle-Management as per the request of upper-management to let me know that I can expect my call either this week or next, and while I am as ready as I will ever be, it ain't the 5 weeks I thought I had left.

As I listened to the message on my mobile and then read the email that followed I got a little panicky, my butt started to twitch and I felt like I was suffocating, god there was no air!  It's real, it's happening; then I paced around my house for a good hour using that word that rhymes with truck, while my eyes misted up at random intervals (I tried to chew my nails but they are gel coated - so no dice, but worth a try ... heh) and I started to pee frequently (I do that when I am really nervous).   I'm trying so hard to keep it all together but I feel like my little legs can't keep up with the pull of the current and my head is starting to bob beneath the waters of New-Job-In-Hell.  I mean really, you can't prissy it up too much - the place is a wasteland of red dirt, dongers and mining pits with summer temperatures that entice the devil himself to vacation there.  It's twelve and a half hour shifts of both days and nights in a single rotation; mod cons will be scarce and female dignities will be such a total non-event I will barely believe my eyes.  Just to give weight to that dignities remark, while in Perth I rather flippantly asked Mr Middle-Management what happens when you need to use the ladies while driving (because two of my GF's posed the question on Friday night and twas not one I had given thought to), and you know what he said to me? He looked me dead in the eye and told me .... I would have to squat behind the wheel of my truck ...  Oh. My. God.  Do I even squat?? Can I squat??  Well, I guess if I can't squat I better learn quick because joy on joy I am going to be squatting.

There is no Moira to do a quick nail repair, there is no supermarket to duck off to if I forget something, there can be no white clothing,  and there is NO HOT WAX!  *hyperventilating*  I am destined to be a bushy eye-browed, mustached, man-handed, stinky, sweaty-ball of red dust that wanders errantly about the camp muttering to anyone who will listen about mythical things such as beauty salons, manicures and silky smooth skin.  Maybe I could pack some wax strips to sniff and lick in times of desperation.  Tuck them safely beneath my mattress (with the errant snakes I am told shall wander in at will) like a forbidden stash of beauty queen porn.  Clippings of beautiful hands and scratch-n-sniff perfume samples ....

I sat and looked at the list I came home with last week-end, thought to my self 'holy *insert word rhymes with trucking* shit ....'.  Then I rang C, Red, and my TAFE lecturer (to let her know I wouldn't be in last night because I was in a bit of crisis ta to stress).  It is a bizarre set of emotions that I am experiencing because I want to go.  I want this experience and I want to provide, and it's not the actual job I am afraid of; it's leaving home.  No matter which way I look at it, essentially I am going to be living the majority of my life somewhere else, which makes what is currently my home, a temporary pit-stop.  I'm afraid of disappointing people and not being the best I can be, I'm afraid the ache in my heart for my family will suck the life out of me and I'm afraid of losing my friends.  Big change is nigh and everything I know is going to cease ....

BUT

I can think up all the reasons in the world not to go and do this but there is one big one that outweighs everything else ....

I will be the little pink bit of butt floss sitting in the cab of that there truck up above .... 

Intermission

The whole working on the mines thing is starting to wig me out - I know it's exciting (and by all that is my Tommy Hilfiger pants I am excited!) but the reality of leaving my family is starting to set in and it has me in a very unusual place. 

Believe it or not I am a psychotic little creature (What? Me? Nooooo) and I can deal with day to day changes but this move is going to throw me completely out of my comfort zone.  I am going to be standing on my own, no safety nets behind me to fall back on - just me and a whole new working (and living) environment that I am going to have to adjust to.  One I have never seen or experienced and lets face it, will be predominantly male orientated ("Yikes" says the little anxiety attack waiting-to-happen).  I have thought all this through, and we have discussed it at length;  but please, just allow me this moment to freak-the-fuck-out. 

I'm scared.  Not 'boo ha ha' scared, I am sitting here trembling in my jocks as I start to prepare for the imminent phone call and preparation for leaving the nest.  Putting Amy to bed last night I looked on the moment and realised that I will only be able to kiss those little fingers for five days out of every three weeks.  My babies are going to grow and learn without me there to see it each and every day.  It makes me feel like I have taken those moments for granted and will regret it sorely when I leave and no longer have the luxury of sitting down for a chat with my girls, or be able to ask my son how his girlfriend is (whole new post of grey hairs there baby).  Financially this is the best chance for us and we know this, but this is a five to seven year project - I don't want to let Mr Middle-Management (who got me the job) down.  He has put his neck on the line for me several times and I swore that I would make the commitment and stick to it - it's signed sealed and delivered in perfume.

So like it or not I'm off; to make a better life for us and hopefully find a future that will provide us with some security.  If you see me over the next few weeks and I look a little fragile (waxing neglected and deranged) take a minute to fling some support in my direction.  It will be an adventure for sure but know I am praying that it is not the biggest mistake of my life.

Okay I am back to being excited again now ...

WHEEEEEE!

Letting Go

My birthday was amazing, I had the best time EVER and I felt like a princess all day.  I truly do have some awesome friends who have made my life a lot richer.   Thank-you to everybody who played a part in creating such a memorable and wonderful experience.  I will leave the waxing lyrical stuff there or nobody will think it's really ME writing this ..  hang on, I will just gag a little bit at myself.  Must be getting sloppy in my old age.

Something that has really surprised me about my birthday is when I look back on the pictures I cannot believe that it's me ... that this is what I look like now.  Fat Tanya still lives here with her shit laying all over the place.  Emotional baggage in the corners, self loathing on the coffee table and skewed reality all over the floor.  I know through all that is logic that I have lost all those kilo's and I have had to buy much much smaller clothes (which sorta makes it hard to ignore), but inside my head I am still fat.  The ugly, fat best-friend standing next to the pretty girl, you know ... the one who has to be funny.  How weird is that?

I hear the comments and compliments people say to me and I still shake my head, disagreeing with what they say because in my mind I am a fat person.  Last night I had a friend of mine tell me I was her 'idol' and before she had even finished speaking I started spewing forth a dozen different reasons as to why I shouldn't be and why she should look for a more worthy object of her admiration.  No matter how many reasons she gave for putting me on my pedestal I just shut her down and argued, argued, argued; playing down everything I have worked so very hard for like it was nothing.   Eventually the argument died down but I was smarting for hours afterward, feeling like some kind of fraud.   It was a horrible feeling in the bottom of my stomach.

I have thought about this a lot today because I felt so awful last night, and it leads me to wonder - when am I going to cut myself some slack?  Seriously, I have no idea how to get myself to accept who I have become.  I should be embracing it, loving and living it like it is the achievement that it is, instead of hiding in the corner thinking up ways I can play down the compliments before they are even spoken. 

I think it's high time that I figure out how to get my head around this and be the 'Skinny Bitch'  that I am.

Moo busts a fu and I implode

Since we got our Wii things have been fun, funny, active and competitive.

This morning little Moo (Amy) has been playing tennis but unfortunately her co-ordination skills are way out and she keeps missing the ball.  With every unsuccessful swing she gets closer and closer to the TV and her swings become bigger and harder.  A moment ago I looked up just in time to see her hit the television and follow through to collect her own head.  I asked her if she was ok and she very impatiently told me 'I'm doing my practice! I'm just gunna do this .. ' and she grunted, swung again and got herself in the head, again.  As a good mother I suppose I should remove my sweet three and half year old from this precarious situation that threatens to damage her little scone, but she seems to be having fun and the controllers have the rubbery silicone covering, I am positive any damage won't be permanent .. heh.

As for me, I wish I was a more patient person because right now this thunder cloud that is sitting on top of my head is raining on my usual parade of grins and giggles and it is pissing me off.  I think a new level of PMT is upon us when even my own bad mood is pissing me off.  No gym this morning but I will go this afternoon, even though I really don't bloody want to;  AND ...  get this, not wanting to go is pissing me off!  A new personal record was even set, this morning I snarled a good friends head off before 8.30am.  Even with the Haze Of Evil floating around my persona consuming my Zen, I deserve to feel bad about that.  And I do, boy do I ever.

How am I supposed to celebrate my femininity and the wondrous world of all things woman when my innards feel minced and I just want to kick something really really hard?  I'm wandering around like a raging behemoth muttering words that start with F and end with K ...  you know, rhymes with truck ...

For the love of Christ will somebody please come and take these hormones and donate them to St Vinnies?  I don't want the buggers anymore and I don't give a flying rats wrinkle if I grow a mustache and get hair on my nipples - anything has got to be better than this ...

PMS

Pre-Menstrual Syndrome - also known as PMT, bitch pills,'THAT' time, Hormone Highway

See also

Psychotic Meltdown State

In which the the female hormonal cycle turns a perfectly sane person into a ranting, angry, emotional tornado with the tolerance of a starving tiger.  During this time nothing will seem right and the answer to everything is food; mostly decadent sweets, deep fried concoctions and BBQ chips.  If the female has these in her possession DO NOT try to remove them, but if she has not DO NOT provide them - attempt preoccupation with shopping and shoes so that she doesn't grind you to a bloody pulp for letting her go 'off plan' once the hormones subside and she returns to her normal state of sanity.

Do not encourage this female to train when in this state as it may be interpreted that you think she does not do enough already and is fat, still.  However, do not encourage her to stay home either otherwise you may be to blame for Non-Scale-Movement (NSM).

Underestimating this condition is common amongst males, most of them not realising that their once nature loving, flower sniffing, peaceful partners would rip the heads off cute fluffy bunnies and RoundUp the flowers just because they were pissing her off.  It is not wise to mention to the suffering party that it could be PMS, lest she assume you are dismissing her opinion thus indicating *antagonism and *condescension.

*NB - pestering, provoking, antagonising, sympathising and condescending to the female in this state can end ones life prematurely.  It is best to approach with caution, if unsure of how to act then avoid all eye contact.