Every month, for a few days, countless women experience a little-known phenomenon that causes them to believe they’re going insane. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, the simplest every-day chores become impossible tasks that reduce us to angry tears or leave us screaming into our couch pillows in frustration. And we think we’re alone. We believe we’re going nuts. We try to act “normal,” so no one will know we’re crazy. Well I’m here to tell you, you are not alone. You are not crazy. We all experience PMS Butterfinger Syndrome at one time or another.
Or “PMS BS” for short (I think that’s the accepted clinical acronym).
To prove to you that you are not alone, I’m sharing with you my top twenty every-day tasks that are gosh darn near impossible for me to accomplish while I’m suffering from PMS BS:
- Turning a light switch on or off on the first try. I usually get it by the third try, but only after making gurgley rabid animal noises to avoid dropping the F-bomb in ear-shot of the kids.
- Screwing on any kind of cap, but most especially the cap for the milk and the tiny lids to my contact-lens case. Sometimes I give up screwing them on and just slam them into place with the heel of my hand.
- Closing doors or drawers all the way the first time. Did that cabinet door just… open itself?
- Folding a shirt at more-or-less 90 degree angles, and without any up-turned fabric anywhere. I don’t know why, but no matter how hard I “flick” the shirt (you know, to shake loose any up-turned seams), the seam around the waist never flicks flat. But only when I have PMS BS.
- Taking a pillow case off of a pillow. I didn’t know fabric could suction to an object? I thought cotton was “breathable?”
- Putting a pillow case on a pillow. Suddenly the pillows are twice as big as normal.
- Putting a fitted sheet on a bed. That’s it; from now on I’m scheduling laundry around my period.
- Putting on yoga pants without getting my toe stuck in the fabric and falling over. Don’t even try to pretend this has never happened to you.
- Removing a hanger from the closet rod. It’s easier to go to Target and buy new hangers… and $200 worth of random stuff that makes me feel better about myself for about five minutes.
- Picking up anything. On an ordinary day, I can pick stuff up with my toes, like a chimp. But when I have PMS BS, that talent goes out the window and I resort to kicking things out of my way with more force than necessary (For the therapeutic benefit, obviously).
- Dialing a phone number. That’s okay; I’m better off not calling anyone who needs to be physically dialed anyway. If they’re not in my contacts, it’s probably because I never wanted to talk to them in the first place.
- Sliding my feet into slippers or a pair of flip-flops. When I have PMS BS, it’s easier to sit down on the floor and use my hands to put my shoes on. Like a three-year-old.
- Typing on a keyboard: Good thing I’m not a “real” writer.
- Forming a complete sentence. I’m not talking about stuttering, it’s just, uh… crap, what was I saying?
- Remembering words that are an ordinary part of my everyday vernacular. What’s that thingy? That thingy that you use to do the thingy so that the thingy doesn’t heat up the thingy? Two days later: THERMOSTAT!!!
- Eat or drink without dribbling on myself. Who am I kidding? I do this regardless of whether or not I’m PMSing.
- Walking through a doorway without running into the doorframe. “Who moved the f***ing doorway?!” And I stomp off in search of whoever it was that moved the doorway.
- Calling my children (or dog) by their correct names. The other day I yelled “DAMMIT LUCAS!!!” and scared poor Lucas to death. I was trying to yell at Gizmo the dog for almost tripping me by running in between my legs.
- Walking. Especially with a little dog running figure eights around my feet.
- Watching any commercial with babies, puppies, or people graduating from college or hugging their moms without crying. The real reason I keep pillows on the couch is so I can cover my face when I unexpectedly burst into tears over a Home Depot commercial.
In other words, PMS BS ensures that any task requiring opposable thumbs, gross motor skills or use of the frontal lobe is probably going to go terribly awry. And as if all that chaos and humiliation wasn’t enough to make you want to lock yourself in a closet with a body pillow and a bottle of whiskey… it’s followed by a week of hemorrhaging.
But at least now you know you’re not crazy! So what’s on your PMS BS list?