Dead Ends: Unitarians, Coffee, and Lady Issues

I was going to write today about my thoughts on the Unitarian Church, but I basically already explained it all in an IM conversation with a friend of mine, and he put it on his blog before I could. So just go here if you want to know what I think about that. (In the first part, I'm telling him he should go to church more often or there will be negative spiritual consequences. The second part is my recounting of how my friend had to tell her very conservative parents that she visited a Unitarian chuch one Sunday. And the third part is the important one, about my primary problem with Unitarians.)

Ok, so that's covered. I was also going to tell you about how I discovered caffeine this morning, but then I said it on twitter so that's already been covered, too. Basically, it went like this:

Oh man I don't feel like doing this stuff I'm supposed to be doing. I think I'll have some coffee while I mull it over.
*Prepare cup of coffee, drink cup of coffee.*
You know, work doesn't sound so bad after all! Let's do this! Who wants a hug?!?
......
Hm. Self, have you ever noticed how much happier and more enthusiastic we feel after having a cup of coffee? I wonder why that is? Oh... wait... I see. 'Caffeine,' you say?

In conclusion, I'm basically a scientific genius, it's just that I should have been born thousands of years ago.

But my discovery of caffeine reminded me of something else, which is lady-related, and not in a sexy way, which is why maybe any men reading this should just move on before they get bored.

......

Ok, are they gone? I don't want any of them to hear me confess this and then hold it against the entire Lady Nation when the time comes for one of us to be Commanderess in Chief. I have maintained silence about this issue for a very long time, but I ultimately decided that it's worth the risk of talking about it if I can save just one other young woman from the many years of ignorance and confusion that I endured. So here we go.

I am a sensitive soul. Sometimes I have days when I feel particularly emotional and I cry at the drop of a hat. Other times I have days when everything pisses me off and I want to punch all people in the face, with extreme prejudice. And there are still other days when I feel both ways at once, weeping inconsolably as I beat the everloving hell out of anyone who happens to cross me. It's understandable, it's completely natural, it could happen to anyone. It seemed reasonable to assume that, at these times, the world was out to get me.

Except for that while I was in college, I began to have an interesting experience, which repeated itself with a peculiar regularity. It happened, oh I don't know, about every 4 weeks or so. Perhaps you see where I'm going with this. The experience went a little like this:

ARGH! I hate everyone! That person is being a jerk! And so is that one! To hell with you all! Why is everyone always picking on me? Have I become Charlie Brown over night? I just want to... to... CRYYYYYYYYY oh no my life is terrible. I'm terrible. Everything is terrible! No one loves me! Don't say you love me, because you clearly do not! Also, when did I gain all this weight? Why don't my pants fit properly? You know what would fix all of this? Some motherloving CHOCOLATE, that's what. Let's make that happen. Now!

All of this would occur before 9 or 10 am, at which point I would look at the calendar and think:

On top of everything else, today is a Monday! Of course it's a Monday! It's only fitting that I'd have the WORST DAY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE (which is today) on a fricking Monday gosh I hate Monday. You know, I think the last time I felt this way was a Monday, too. Just like a Monday to treat me this way... And now look! As if that wasn't enough, about 10 days from now I have to... to start...

my period. Oh.

That's right everybody, it was PMS. It took me 4 years (that's almost 50 instances of PMS) to figure out what you all probably figured out 4 paragraphs ago. Perhaps it took me so long to accept it because I always thought I was far too intelligent and rational to be vulnerable to the effects of mere biology. But alas, it turns out that apparently all those stereotypes about what happens to a woman under the influence of estrogen withdrawal are taken directly from my life. So if you're a high-functioning woman in a position of power who can't be taken seriously because her 'emotions are tied to the cycles of the moon' or whatever, I sincerely apologize for that. I did not know that my bonkers mental states were going to be taken out of context and applied to other perfectly rational women.

I guess in a way it's comforting because now I know that when I start feeling crazy, it's probably just my endocrine system - nothing to see here, move along now. But it's still a little alarming to think that that's all it takes to TOTALLY RUIN MY DAY. The only thing scarier than what my PMS experience is doing to me currently (and women's rights, again, sorry about that) is what it will eventually do to me and my hypothetical husband if/when I ever get married, if/when I ever have babies. Oh sweet deity, spare me now.