Salt. Coke. In n' Out. More Salt. Tears. Emotional reaction to This Video of Gonzo. Email. More Emails. They grow. Deadline? Oh, yeah. Stuff. To. Do. Did I forget...? Panic. No, it's all Ok...I'm...just...moving...in...slow...motion...like...acting ...class...molasses...no...aunt jemima syrup...no....chocolate gelato....damn...it's the PMS!!

Seriously?! How am I supposed to function as an Alpha Woman with PMS?! [NOTE: I really just now wanted to write "PMS n' shit." (SUB-NOTE: I once worked with a guy who finished every sentence with "n' shit." As in, "We was eatin' tacos n' shit." Except, he pronounced it "n' 'sit." So, one day I told a co-worker at another job about this guy, and immediately he and I started adding "n' sit" to everything we said...in eight months of working together it never failed to produce gales of laughter. The trick was the pregnant pause after making a declamatory statement. Someone would say something like, "I gotta do my taxes..." and then we'd look at each other, and five seconds later, someone would casually whisper, "n' sit." To this day, when I say anything mundane like, "I'm going to run some errands..." I alway finish it in my head with "n' sit.")]

But "PMS n' shit" sounds so un-feminist. Un-feminist? Dang. First the Republicans rape the word "rape" and I forget the meaning of the word "sexist." But it's OK, 2011 is The Year of Self-Acceptance. I'm a flawed, imperfect babbling blogging fool, on PMS, and caffeine, but am still worthy of love, acceptance...

...n' sit.

Just for today, I have no idea what I just wrote.