I am currently having MPMS (male PMS). People say men can’t have PMS, but they’re wrong. Men may not go through the physiological cycle, but they clearly go through the emotional cycle. I’m not talking about crying during a commercial about Huggies pull ups (although the only commercial where a man is allowed to cry is that commercial with the homeless dogs and cats where Sarah McLaghlin is singing in the background… that commercial is BRUTAL). I’m talking about the “I'm MEAN, everyone is STUPID, give me CHOCOLATE or get out my way” kind of cycle. I totally understand “that time of the month” now. There is NOTHING you can say that will make me feel better. I just want to be alone.
The following things have bothered me today:
1.) The overuse of LOL. Do people not understand what that means? It means laugh out loud. Which further means that something has caused you to literally laugh audibly. It does not signify the end of a sentence. I.e. I just finished a sentence, LOL. There is NOTHING funny about that… If I see people use this on facebook on something that isn’t funny, or can’t be misconstrued as funny, I hide them or delete them as friends.
I need a vacation, LOL. (you are now hidden)
I just ate lunch, LOL. (you are now hidden)
I’m so tired, LOL (you are deleted as a friend)
My dog is barking, LOL (we were never friends, the only reason I accepted your friend request was because we went to the same high school and have 32 friends in common, but I don’t know who you are, goodbye)
I have decided to write out that I’m laughing. “Man that was funny. I laughed audibly.” Yes, it takes away from the humor of the moment. But outside of calling you and letting you hear me laugh, I don’t know what to do.
2.) Old men bother me. I don’t know when the disconnect happens where you don’t care about social norms, but I don’t want to get that old. Old men do things that are completely unacceptable but people let it go because they’re old. I don’t like public bathrooms in general. If I’m there, I don’t want to be there for long. I’m like the navy seals of bathrooms. I want to get in, handle business, and get out before anyone knows I was there. I do NOT want to linger. I do NOT want to have conversation. If I walk in and see someone’s feet under the stall, I will leave and come back later. I don’t care how many stalls there are. If ONE stall is occupied, the whole bathroom is occupied as far as I’m concerned. I WISH old men would do the same. NOPE… In the brief time I’m there, someone will come in and sit in the stall next to me and unleash hell. DUDE…seriously… wait literally two minutes and you can have this WHOLE PLACE to yourself. But now it’s all about you cause I clearly can’t go anymore. And now I have to wait it out, which only makes this whole awkward situation worse. And it sounds like you’re having to strain, which means this situation wasn’t based on necessity as much as it was you just WANTING to do this NOW… Did you just get on your phone?!? What the heck?! BRO, there’s SOMEONE ELSE IN HERE, or did you not see the shoes in the stall next door??? I hate you.
They must teach this disregard for bathroom etiquette at the same place they teach the “naked single leg-hike” for locker room benches, as every old man seems to know this faux pas too.
3.) The phrase “That’s NOTHING!” Normally, this phrase doesn’t bother me terribly. But today….today I can’t take it. Today my MPMS is acting up. My nerves is bad… I could tell a story about how I bought a painting of an old woman sitting in a chair reading a book. Then tell of how I accidentally dropped the painting while loading it into my car and tore the canvas. It was then that I realized behind the canvas was a copy of the United States Constitution and a map of where Jimmy Hoffa was buried. Odd right?? Regardless, at the conclusion of my story, I will hear those heinous words shouted emphatically by the “one upper,” as he is called. He will then tell a story which attempts to best my torn painting/ Constitution story. “No kidding, you once found $20 in the parking lot of Wal-Mart? That’s cool…And clearly better...” Most times though, his story has NOTHING to do with what we were talking about and totally kills conversation.
Females say they get bloated during this time. I totally get that too. Mine is mainly because I’m an angry eater. When I’m frustrated I eat everything I see. The problem, albeit cyclical, is that somewhere in the midst of eating everything I see is that I get mad at myself for eating so much. But again, I’m an angry eater. This leads to me getting mad at myself and eating more.
The best/worst decision I’ve made about “that time of the month” was to start keeping track of my co-workers cycles. I would make a notation in my phone about the “crankiness” of my co-workers and see if it correlated roughly 28 days later. When it did, I would make a little star and begin keeping track.
(I’m a scientist, so I considered this an experiment)
Not surprisingly, the females at my work all seemed to hit the week at the same time. “Sync-ing” is what they called this anomaly… The men at the lab referred to it as “HELL WEEK.” Some poor male co-worker would come stumbling in after being reamed by some females and wonder what just happened to him. I then checked my phone and told him he shouldn’t take it personal… It’s “that time” for her. You could see the panic and confusion leave his face… My former manager heard that I had such a chart and asked if it could be shared with other men for the benefit of the lab. There’s where it went wrong… Once the females found out such a chart existed, the gig was up. We were all dead (Even though they were totally impressed on the accuracy of the chart). I tried to convince them that this was advantageous to ALL, but it didn’t work. What was funny is that EVERY FEMALE I’ve EVER MET has said “aww, you can’t even tell when I’m on mine… I don’t get moody like other girls.” Oh really? Lemme check my phone…. You are on the 11th this month, correct? I would usually get replies like “How tha…? I mean…, Paul, You’re such a JERK!”
Hey, don’t mess with the science…
Arg, for some reason I want a chocolate chip cookie.
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