In Anticipation...

 

...of Shark Week...

Disclaimer: for all of you of the five limbed gender, you may opt to stop reading right now...as this post is certainly of the TMI sort, and you may never think of me the same. Why, you say? This seems harmless enough, right? The Discovery Channel's show special is universally liked! Well, us females deem our...errrr....most...ummmm...hormonally active week as such...so for your sake...the little red X button is on the upper left corner for Macs, and upper right for PC's. Thank you and have a good day.

Okay, ladies, obviously my monthly SW extravaganza is stalking me around in circles, ready to pounce once the calendar hits that number circled in blood red. In all actuality, this isn't about the actual event, it's more about the week-long pre-awards show. 

It effing sucks. Most times, it sucks more ass than the arrival of my great white. For a week prior, I have an out of body experience. My sane composed self sits on the leather armchair in the corner, observing the evil incarnate taking over my body and making my head spin in circles.

During this week, my children wear earplugs and flip me the bird whenever we cross paths and the Mister dons his hat in the form of an ass and elicits random urges to give his nutsack a good heartfelt kicking. (No, my kids would never really do that...they are normal respectful children...and my husband is only an asshat in my mind.) See? I am fully aware my mind is certifiably bonkers during this time...yet my foot wants to meet the Mister's crotch in such violent ways regardless! Oh, goodness, my poor family.

This is the week the entire household floor is magically smothered in eggshells like some perennial curse. This is the week I nitpick and forbid other members of the fam to do the same. 

As in:

"What was THAT look for? What do you mean NOOOOTHING?!?! It doesn't mean NOOOOTHING if you apply that type of intonation to it!" Eyes as big as saucers and steam puffing from ears and everything....as target of nitpicking slowly but purposefully moves towards the hall in the desperate hope of escape.

For this week, I become the chimp whose food bowl gets shoved into the cage until I tire of flinging shit at the walls. To make matters worse, immediately after all this, I have yet another week to feel uncomfortable and disgusted. Just makes me want to kick a nutsack real bad.

Are there drugs for this?