PMT in BGN

Sorry it's been a bit. It's because I've been spending my evenings in the gym. Well, I went last night. This evening Hubby and I decided that as it's pretty chilly out, and I'm in an atrocious mood, the time would be better spent sitting in bed, drinking a hot toddy and eating chocolate in front of a DVD (thanks to fab friend back in Blighty for timely delivery of Lidl chocolate goodies). 

I cannot begin to tell you what a terrible mood I'm in. 

I have managed not to shout and shriek at the family, but I have been muttering darkly about the cashmere tank top that the housekeeper has shrunk and the lack of decent food the cook has left us for the weekend. Luckily they are not here today, as they would probably both be sacked by now, which I would immediately regret as they are in fact both lovely people who are perfectly competent. I am just a hormonal witch. 

Good job it's not Christmas Eve today, as Santa Claus would take one look and go a bit wide-eyed and silently scurry off somewhere else, which is exactly what Hubby and the kids have been doing most of the day.

Hope I am not so scary tomorrow, and able to suggest:

1. not shrinking woolens, and

2. actually cooking some food

to my hapless staff, without causing mirrors to shatter and milk to turn sour within a three-mile radius.

Incidentally, in Nepal, women are considered 'unclean' during their periods and aren't allowed to touch other people's food, go to the temple, do the gardening, etc., which all seems a bit wierd and out dated; however, considering how I feel today, I think it may be an example of ancient wisdom that we would do well to re-incorporate into our modern society. It would avoid quite a lot of screeching, "Oh for God's sake I'll just do it myself, you moron", or "No, I haven't got PMT, you are just an insensitive fuckwit," etc.  and possibly cut the divorce rate by some not inconsiderable percentage.

Just a thought.