I
have to be completely honest here; I have never been a rational
person. Okay, for those of you who read my articles and
know how I tend to react in stressful situations this may
not come as a surprise but for the last two weeks my emotions
have been in over drive. I am not one of those people that
can be relied upon to act in a calm manner in any situation
because I have an extremely volatile temper that can flair
up in a moment’s notice and can be devastating to anyone
caught in its path. My temper is so famous in my family
that my mother still talks about the time when I was three
and got into a fistfight with a kid twice my size. (Trust
me, he had it coming.) I think if you look in the Guinness
Book of World records you would see my photo next to the
record for Most Doors Slammed In The Least Amount Of Time
because believe me I’ve slammed an awful lot of them.
I’ve also been known to throw things, a talent that
I seem to have inherited from my mother. I recall a conversation
I had with her just after I had thrown a deck of cards at
my ex-boyfriend (this of course would be the ex who currently
holds the world record for Testicle Re-Arranging) and she
told me that she had once dumped an entire jar of mint sauce
on my father’s head and then threw four pies at him
because he kept playing the same record over and over again,
so you see I come by it naturally.
For
the last two weeks though I feel like I’ve been going
out of my mind, like I’ve been riding an emotional
roller coaster that shows no sign of slowing down let alone
stopping. The littlest thing can set me off! To give you
an example of what I’ve been going through I will tell
you the story of the Manager Who Crossed The Line. On a
dreary Thursday afternoon my fellow manager decided to engage
in a conversation with one of his sales reps that was not
only inappropriate but also demeaning and sexist and I just
happened to be standing right beside them. It seems that
my Neanderthal co-workers only deem a woman worthy of their
esteem if her cup size is larger than a B and how wide she
can open her mouth. Think I’m exaggerating? Think again.
This conversation happens on a daily basis and I usually
ignore it. But not that day. That day I decided to let him
know that I was shocked to hear that a woman should have
to open her mouth that wide considering the size
of his package, to which he laughed and asked if I’d
like to see it and to which I retorted that I didn’t
have my microscope handy. Needless to say he was not happy
with my lack of enthusiasm and replied that I was either
‘a lesbian or PMS-ing, which one is it today?’
That was the little thing that set me off. And off I went
on a tangent concerning his lack of both brains and penis,
his poor long suffering girlfriend and how sad it must make
her to share her bed with a man who refers to his member
as ‘Big Daddy’ when ‘Wee Willie Winkie’
would be much more appropriate. When I finally finished
my little tirade he was silent…and shocked. He later
told me that he had no idea that a woman that looked as
uptight as I did could have such a vulgar mouth. How little
he knows.
I
have been telling people off all of my life but it seems
that I have gone into over-drive in the last week or so
and I have to admit that I am enjoying it. I enjoyed the
look on the bus driver’s face when I told him that
if he ‘didn’t like his job then he should quit’
after he rudely told me that he didn’t have time to
answer my question, and I enjoyed the look I received after
I kicked another Neanderthal out of the gym when he thought
he could sweet talk his way out of a situation that could
easily be termed sexual harassment, and I especially enjoyed
the look I received at a store when I asked for myrrh. When
the man behind the counter told me in a very strident tone
that there was ‘no such thing’ and that he had
‘been in business for twelve years and had never heard
of it so it couldn’t possibly exist and what use could
it possibly be to me?’ To which I replied that ‘it
did exist and I use it in most of my spells. You know, the
ones I cast when people speak to me like I’m a silly
child.’ I wish I had a camera with me because his expression
was priceless. Obviously he had never encountered a witch
in his twelve years in business either.
So
is it PMS or is it something else, something deeper that’s
making me react like a human stick of dynamite? I really
don’t think it is PMS because I am one of the lucky
ones; I have never really suffered from it. If my emotional
ride is due to PMS, wouldn’t it calm down once my cycle
was done? Well it is and I’m not. All I know is that
if I keep acting this way my photo will soon be up in every
post office with ‘WANTED’ written underneath it,
but there is no reason for the public to worry. I may be
armed and extremely dangerous but I’m a very good person
at heart.
he