The Joys of Womanhood

There's a certain time of the month for most women, that hormones are a bit off balance.

Perhaps I'm the only one that has the following symptoms...

Crying at anything. Road rage. Impatience. Crying again. Cravings. I could eat and eat like I'm some sort of never ending black hole. Back aches. Tender in the bosom. Breakouts{I thought acne ended with puberty, apparently it goes into your 30's}. Water retention. Jeans don't fit like they did 2 days prior.

Saturday as I was driving to the Salt Lake, there was a winter storm. It was coming on pretty strong. My windshield wipers were at full blast just so I could see out the window.

As I was coming up the point of the mountain, the windshield wiper on the drivers side fell off.

Aaaahhhh panic!

I don't know how I made it safely to the side of the road, but I did.

I started to panic and then I felt the tears coming on.

I got out and tried to fix the dumb wiper.

No luck.

Called family to get some help.

No luck.

Got a hold of a friend and he told me he was on his way.

As I waited for him an officer pulled up behind me.

He asked me what I was doing on the side of the freeway.{As if anyone would just stop on the side of the freeway in the middle of a snowstorm for kicks and giggles.}

I explained the situation.

And then he asked if I had tried fixing the wiper.

DUH. And that's the look I gave him.

Of course I tried fixing it.

While he was talking down to me like I was some dumb girl, he popped the wiper back into place.

That is where my blood started boiling.

He had a smirk on his face and said, "You might want to get off the freeway, its dangerous and you could get hit. There's the exit right there. Why don't you go wait for your friend there and you might want to consider getting new wipers today."

If looks could kill I am sure the look I gave him did.

I drove off irritated, and fighting back tears of anger and muttering some not-so-nice words.

It is times like these that I like to blame my irrational behavior on my monthly visitor.

Bridget Jones says it best....

In Bridget Jones Diary, the book, there is a paragraph that summarizes how I feel as a woman many times!

Being a woman is worse than being a farmer-there is so much harvesting and crop spraying to be done; legs to be waxed, underarms shaved, eyebrows plucked, feet pumiced, skin exfoliated and moisturized, spots cleansed, roots dyed, eyelashes tinted, nails filed, cellulite massaged, stomach muscles exercised. The whole performance is so highly tuned you only need to neglect it for a few days for the whole thing to go to seed. Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if left to revert to nature-with a full beard and handlebar mustache on each shin, Dennis Healey eyebrows, face a graveyard of dead skin cells, spots erupting, long curly fingernails like Struwwelpeter, blind as bat and stupid runt of species as no contact lenses, flabby body flobbering around. Ugh, ugh. Is it any wonder girls have no confidence?

~Bridget Jones~