When I had my hysterectomy, I stupidly assumed that in addition to ridding myself of the ritual bloodshed, I'd be eliminating the sore boobs, mood swings and acne. Even though I kept my ovaries. Don't ask me WHY I thought this, since I have a degree in nursing and worked OB for 9 years. I'm intimately aquainted with the way woman parts work. I guess I thought I was special.
Now, I have RAGING PMS. I mean throw myself out the window mood swings. A zit the size and shape of a rhinoceros horn on my forehead. I'm finding myself making onion dip with soup mix and sour cream and then throwing it out because it's too salty. Then I make terribly involved onion dip after caramelizing onions and chopping thyme only to throw that out because it's not salty enough.
Shelby is upstairs right now singing with her friend Austin. They're in the musical theatre class and auditions for Cinderella are on Monday. They're belting out Rodgers and Hammerstein. Loudly. Shelby takes voice twice a week and normally I love to hear her. Right now, I want them to go in the backyard with a boom box and practice.
Jason is in the next room watching Spongebob. Also loudly. This house has 6 tv's for 4 people (including one in his room with his own TIVO) and he has to watch the one closest to me at all times. I don't even like him watching tv much at all, but right now I just can't face pulling one more Transformer's face out of it's hidey hole near it's behind.
I'd go take a long hot bath and drink a glass of wine, BUT I have a tub from 1915 that's long and narrow and makes my claustrophobic self feel like I'm in my coffin. Ugh.
I'll be back to posting about happy fall activities and this insanely faboo pork roast I'm making next week. Right now I'm having a temper tantrum.
Luckily, nobody reads this blog...