PMS is my time to complain. I complain about everything. I can almost tell you to the second when it kicks in.
It kicked in yesterday at the corner of City Hall when a man with an umbrella saw me coming and deliberately moved so that he was walking straight towards me. I fixed him with a look that might have been described as ‘the evil eye,’ in medieval times but he wouldn’t budge. In the end I moved, but not before I hesitated so that he almost fell into the bushes. Karma’s a bitch dude.
The rest of the day was great and my anger soon dissipated, but hey, it’s only early morning right now and I still have the whole day to find something to complain about.