PMS



Today is the beginning of my descent to the dark side of the moon.  Let me explain.


Three days ago Andrea Clegg Recor was going to someday take to the roads with my soul sistas in our very own pink caravan filled with gold scarves and fancy ideas spreading good cheer and vivaciousnes.  This, I had stated in my Facebook status update anyways.


~Cut to today. ~


Today I want to hide out in a dirty brown trailer with flat tires and smoke cigarettes, kill flies and my husband too.  


My bitch lines are on fire.  You know the ones.... right between the eyebrows.  I think they officially show up when one turns 30.  Remember how our parents always told us not to make funny faces because they would stay that way.  They were in fact telling the truth....even if they didn't realize it.  My bitch lines (I refer to them as a sourpuss stamp in polite company) are showing up hard from many years of practice. I have tried to blame them on headaches, dry eyes and squinting from the sun, but we all know the truth. They are the product of brattiness, adolescent attitude, and hormonal bitchiness. So is the progression of life.


What was I saying???? Oh..only this.


I have PMS.

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