Sunday, April 6, 2008

"That really hurt! I'm gonna have a lump there, you idiot! Who throws a shoe? Honestly! You fight like a woman!"

You keep checking for something new. And I keep disappointing. I've just been lazy. There, I said it. I have a list of interesting thoughts I'd love to post about. But I'm lazy.

And I haven't felt well. As evidenced by the mini-fit I threw in the 2nd Wal-Mart we were in the other night when M had the gall to suggest we should just break down and go to Sports Authority. I held my arms in 90 degree angles at my sides, clinched my fists, stomped my feet, thrust my arms/fists out and downward and said "no!" M looked at me and laughed since I suddenly resembled a very tall 2 year old.

Further evidence was yesterday while golfing. By the 6th hole I knew I was in trouble. When things didn't go my way, I threw my club - as I had previously done on the green of the 4th hole - and it dawned on me that I probably wouldn't be making it to the 9th hole. The 7th hole was really bad - I missed the ball 3 times and threw my club again and refused to golf anymore at all. The trifecta (more like whatever is greater than a trifecta) of abdominal cramps, back cramps, severe hunger, headache, sore throat, and overall malaise had taken over. And I felt like a complete and utter moron because I was throwing fits in public over a game of golf.

I decided right then and there that it was time to leave. So my girlfriend and I left the guys and went to "get seats" at the restaurant where it was absolutely unnecessary to go and get seats because there is no waiting. I think it was clear to all of us that we were sparing everyone any further tantrums from yours truly. How embarrassing! Aren't I supposed to, by this middle aged state of life, have a fully developed frontal lobe which keeps me from acting like an insane lady?

Or maybe that's what kept me from throwing myself down on the ground, followed closely by an obscene display of kicking and screaming to emphasize exactly how crappy I was feeling at that moment in time.

And don't even get me started on the breakdown I had at work on Thursday which involved a show of rude impatience on my part, the spewing of the worst curse word in my arsenal, a huffy depart from the office to go fix what "the morons" had messed up, the prickling of tears at the corners of my eyes, and a panicked and teary call to a girlfriend once I finally figured out the answer to the question "what's wrong with me today!?" because I knew she'd get it. Thankfully, she did and managed to distract me from the throes of a wicked bad case of PMS.

Please know I don't use that explanation of my behavior lightly. I've never really been one to have this problem, nor to give myself the excuse of treating others poorly because I'm having an off day that happens to be near that "time of the month".

But oh my life do I understand from this experience that there are times when you just can't control the fact that you are a raving maniac. Times when you suddenly have the disturbing sensation of a sort of out-of-body experience where your sane self has "left the building" and is now looking down on your maniacal self and thinking "who on earth is this woman and why is she acting this way?".

So to my husband, my friends, my coworkers, and the random strangers at the golf course from yesterday I say "I'm sorry". Nichole will be back tomorrow. Or hopefully the next day. Just hang on til then.

[Title quote is from "Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery"]


Jen said...

I hate those days! Good luck feeling better! and very entertaining story!!

hayngrl101 said...

Hey, I keep checking in on you (obviously you already know that). But in my defense, I am only procrastinating what I should be doing or working on.

I get the out of body experiences. I call it raging... that's what I do. Like get my blood boiling and so angry I can't see straight because DH put my tampons next to the Comet. THE COMET!! Excuse me, sir, but do you realize where those go? And you stuck them next to something toxic? Er, I digress...

I hate them because I feel like- this is not me... or is it?

Hope you feel better.

The MomBabe said...

well, I'm perfect and never have moods. I'm also a robot.

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