Saturday was like The Worst Day Ever.
There was an author coming to speak at the temple in the morning who I really wanted to meet, having read all of her books, and I couldn't go, because there was also N's best friend's birthday party, and then Em's friend's birthday party, and I had to go to the store to buy presents, and then I had to wrap the presents and get the kids to make cards, but we didn't have wrapping paper, so I had to go back out to the store to get some. And then I had to drive N and Em to the first party at a gym about 18 miles in one direction from my house, and then take them to the park for the rest of the party after that, and then we had to leave the park early with N all upset at saying goodbye to his beloved WeeyumWise, the birthday boy, and drive Em to a party that was 18 miles in THE OTHER DIRECTION from my house, so it took like 45 minutes to get there, and then N wanted to stay at the other party, but he wasn't invited, so there was a scene. And so then I drove N home, only to have to head back out to pick up Em at the first party because, although Baroy had agreed to pick her up, he was in middle of watching a &*&%^#$ college basketball game and didn't seem ready to go when it was time to go so I loudly sighed and told him he needed to get N some dinner and he replied, "Maybe I'll pick up some El Pollo Loco" (this will be important later...well, important to me and my ranting, maybe not to you), and then I went to get Em by myself, but I was almost out of gas from all that driving, so I had to stop and get gas, and as I got out of the car my back went twaannnggggggg and I knew that wasn't going to be good. And then I realized that it was almost 8 and I hadn't had dinner, so I stopped and picked something up at Wendy's and ate it in the car and got ketchup all over myself so that when I walked into the party, Em kind of pointed at me and whispered, "You're all stained" as if I was embarrassing her, and then when we were in the car on the way home she asked if we'd be getting together with our friends the next day, and I said that I was going to a book club meeting I'd been looking forward to and Baroy was going to a party for a friend of ours that I couldn't go to because I couldn't find a Sunday-night babysitter, so no, and she started to complain and I LOST IT and lectured her about how I had just spent the entire day ferrying her and her brother around to all of their things and if I heard just ONE MORE WORD, she wouldn't be going to another birthday party until she got her own driver's license. And then we got home and Baroy arrived just as we did with a big of food from El Pollo Loco and said, "Oh, great timing, let's eat," and when I looked at him like he was insane and pointed out that Em had just come from a dinner party, and I had picked up something in the car, he got all huffy and said, "Well, I just spent $20 getting dinner for everyone, and you went and just got something for yourself?" and I LOST IT again, yelling about how I'd spent the whole day doing everything for everyone else and how DARE he give me a hard time about fucking FEEDING MYSELF just because he didn't understand what I meant when I said he should feed N, and then I stamped off upstairs and took a veryveryvery long hot bath to try to soak the twang out of my twangy back, only to hear N screaming at the top of his lungs and come down to find out that he had banged his head in the doorway and had a huge knot on the side of his head, at which point Baroy said I should put him to bed and I said I didn't want him going to sleep right after banging his head and Baroy said something like, "Well, that was 15 minutes ago; you weren't here when it happened," and, well, do I really NEED to say that I LOST IT at that point again?
Now, some of you may be thinking to yourself, "Well, yeah, it was an annoying day, but isn't she overreacting?" But you don't have the most crucial piece of information, the piece of information that explains why I hated EVERY SINGLE SECOND of that day, why I wanted to sell my children, why I wanted to not just get a divorce but to somehow go back in time and not even MEET Baroy in the first place.
That piece of information is this: Within 24 hours, I would get my period.
So maybe it wasn't The Worst Day Ever. But it definitely was The Worst PMS Ever.
Menopause, take me away!