Sitting in slippers on the couch, drinking white wine, alternating between The Notebook and Under the Tuscan Sun, I realized that I am not (as I previously thought) invincible to that pesky monthly beast, PMS.
I once thought that since I didn't *realize* that I was going through PMS, I didn't actually go through it. (see also: Complete and Total Denial)
Say what you will, but I was seriously depressed at one point (before I started drinking the wine) about how sad I thought it was that the folks on the Honey Bunches of Oats commercials never actually "rolled" through my town. Seriously. I love Honey Bunches of Oats. I would like some free cereal, please. GIVE ME THE CEREAL, DAMMIT.
Stupid hormones.
I once thought that since I didn't *realize* that I was going through PMS, I didn't actually go through it. (see also: Complete and Total Denial)
Say what you will, but I was seriously depressed at one point (before I started drinking the wine) about how sad I thought it was that the folks on the Honey Bunches of Oats commercials never actually "rolled" through my town. Seriously. I love Honey Bunches of Oats. I would like some free cereal, please. GIVE ME THE CEREAL, DAMMIT.
Stupid hormones.
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