PMS is a bitch

And so am I. Holy crap, am I. I seriously can hardly abide my own company. My family's reward for letting me sleep in this morning (is it really sleeping in if you don't get properly to sleep in the first place until 6am?) is my glowering face and yelling, cursing reaction to absolutely everything. During one of my late night sojourns in the living room last night, I thought wistfully of the children's fleeting dependency and sweet innocence and resolved to be a kinder, more engaged mother. That didn't last three minutes into breakfast.

If I'm really done having children (and I believe that, for the mental health of everyone in the family, I had better be), WHY must we all suffer this every month? Here I am, menopause, come and get me!