You know PMS is bad when you daydream about going back to THE BEGINNING. You get pleasure from the thought of standing behind the Tree of Life with a bunch of your home girls waiting to jump Eve.
But first you want to witness the conversation between Eve and the sleazy serpent. Jumping Eve will be a walk in the park, but we’re still scared of snakes in the beginning.
So we see the slimy sleeze bag coming from a mile a way with his snake swag. He reminds you of a brotha appearing out of the dark nowhere in a smoky club with his smooth game, but he’s still ugly. Eve doesn’t know ugly yet, because she’s still innocent.
He approaches whispering his stank breath, “Pssst, c’mere girl lemme ax you sumpthin.” Eve twirls around coyly to meet his seductive gaze. We’re all behind the tree like, “Ewww, can’t she see he’s up to no good?”
The snake says to Eve, “Why you ain’t pickin’ nothin off that bootiful tree rat dey.” Eve gives him the biblical spiel and he says, “WHAT!? He ain’tcho daddy. Girl go ‘head and getchu that apple. You too pretty da be eatin dem figs. Ain’t nuthin goin’ happen to ya.”
My girls and I are like, “No he didn’t that sly….” I say, “Ya’ll take the snake. Eve is mine.”
I tell them to stand down until Eve puts the apple to her lips.
While we lay in wait, I think about just this one month from PMS hell. The one where I’m 42 years old and the cramps are reminding me of how bad they were at 13, except at 13 I didn’t have the future to compare the pain to.
The future pain of what it feels like to be pregnant. Your boobs feel huge and painful. The future pain of what it feels like to have a miscarriage. Your cramps feel like any minute now diarrhea. The future pain of any day now menses where you'll want a heating pad for your back but you'll be too tired to find it and plug it in. The future pain that makes you daydream about going back to the beginning.
Then before the glorious appearing, after you’ve been off your rocker, after you’ve wanted to take a nap following your morning coffee, after you’ve eaten everything and survived the hair coloring aisle at Walgreen’s, your body goes into the weird calm. One might compare it to pregnancy nesting. You feel fine now. You'll snap out of crazy but everyone is still scared of you. You turn on the I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting charm. You clean, hum, grocery shop and cook without an attitude. This is the moment of truth. You’re not pregnant.
The next morning you’ll flood the toilet with proof and you’ll pounce into your daydream – the one where your home girls turn into hungry hyenas to devour the snake and you jump all crouching tiger hidden dragon to slap the apple from Eve’s hand while tackling her to the ground.
Here’s the thing… it won’t solve anything and you won’t be assured that you have snapped out of crazy but for at least the next twelve or so days everything is going to be just fine.
So what do you think? Shall I see someone about this? Is this irrational behavior a thing?