As I lay my head on my pillow I set forth another almighty sigh (bringing the total count to about 15 since I'd arrived home a few hours earlier) and hubby, by this stage a little over it barely turned to me before saying "What's up now"
"I don't know" I replied in a small voice.
And the truth of the matter is I didn't know. I just felt MEH - for want of a better word. It felt too hard to smile. Too hard to cry. Combined with fatigue and constantly yawning in every conversation throughout the day I just couldn't for the life of me feel anything.
Then I awoke and like that yesterday was all a dream, I was back. My feet were bouncing, I was on time (amazingly!) and I was happy; instead of empty threats if Miss 6 didn't hurry up and put on her shoes AND socks (yes, she had deemed it necessary to come to me the day prior with shoes only stating that we live in QLD where its hot and why should we have to wear socks? To which I replied because the establishment tells you to, go put on your socks and hurry up about it!) Today she put on her shoes AND socks and complained bitterly about them being uncomfortable so I happily pulled out another pair and told her to bin those as they must have been last years leftovers. The smile on her face, returned with a cheesy grin from me.
And that's all it took.
Yesterday I felt down in the dumps, I couldn't strike up conversations as they were just too much to bare and I didn't want to sit around in idle chit chat.
Today my friend mentioned how perky I seemed and I hadn't seemed like myself this past week and half.
Then it dawned on me. BLOODY PMT! Rather than irrational anger and yelling and general irritability I suffer through for 7 days, this month the irritability still remained but the yelling didn't appear as much, replaced instead by this horrible melancholy feeling. I've said it before but being a chic really does suck!