there's more to life than this

OK, phuck a whole lot of everything. I am a hormonally challenged, bitter angry moody person. Fortunately I will be able to sleep in tomorrow (one of my daze off) -- this morning I was in the throes of slumber only to be roused by the bleeping of my phone.

"Mmph?" Apologetic DJ is on the other end, talking about the computer. It is 1:40 a.m. I somehow assess the situation in my half-consciousness: computer problem+not computer literate DJ who doesn't even have email=I need to get up and go fix the problem. I don't know how I managed to not hit the wall of my emaciated carport stall as I backed out, clad in pjs and slippers and half-open eyelids. I rolled thru the vacant town, parked in the fire lane, stumbled downstairs, fixed the problem, crawled back to my car and back home to bed. Meh.

When I get PMS-y like now I usually want to either complain or break things or go to sleep, but this time nothing sounds good. Writing each of these sentences is as painful as pulling teeth. TV just sounds like an invitation to further hostility. Why the hell does this have to happen? I can't imagine what the biological purpose of PMS is, there is no logic to it. OK, I'll stop now. Sorry.