The Seventh Ring of PMS and my epitaph.....
Since Friday I’ve been weighing the consequences of posting another e-mail from my wife.
The voices in my head were in a hell of a conflict.
All men have two voices little voices in our heads that constantly battle for prime time, the ego voice which controls everything below the forehead, and the brain voice which usually pipes in just before we get in trouble for listening to the ego voice.
For example, for a forty-eight year old man the ego voice will spot a hot twenty something year old woman and say, “Hey… she wants you”, and the brain voice will say, “Uh…that’s too much work.”
So when I read my wife’s e-mail I was torn. The ego voice was saying, “Don’t be a wuss, it’s her fault for sending it to you.” and the brain voice was saying, “Um… she owns a sword.”
Then, as usual, the two voices reached a mutual understanding. We would call this a “guest post” from my wife on my blog.
How much trouble could I get in for that?
To set this up I need to say that during the day my wife works for a large defense contractor and deals all day with engineers and rocket scientists. So here is my wife’s unauthorized guest post.
The subject of her email was, “The Seventh Ring of PMS”.
“It’s not on any map, but all women eventually find themselves there, in a "just world” where God is a SHE. This is where men would end up when they found themselves lost and refuse to simply ASK FOR DIRECTIONS! Where is it....? Simply go to hell and hang a left!
I'm sooooo there! Picture the scariest thing you can imagine... yeah, that's it!! I'm stressed, I'm bloated, my back and legs are aching, I'm having a really bad hair day, my face looks like a pepperoni pizza (again) and every IDIOT SAVANT MAN on the planet has stopped by my desk today with a stupid-ass question! Did you KNOW rocket scientists were just as capable of random acts of stupidity as all other males??? Well, I'm here to tell ya, THEY ARE!
Add the fun, I'm craving (and not in an "oh, that sounds good" way, but in a "give it to me or DIE" way) chocolate... doesn't matter what form! So I went in search of a vending machine... walked in to find this guy standing there (all 250+ lbs of him, eyes glazed, lips slack, drool sliding down his chin). I very politely waited, giving him plenty of space... for about three minutes. Then I tried the "cough"... just to let him know someone was there (I was sure my presence in the room hadn't filtered to him yet). Still nothing... no movement, now the drool had slipped from his chin to his plaid button down shirt... yeah, he's a keeper. Finally, I decided to try humor, so I said, "it's sure hard to choose isn't it?".... NOTHING... now I'm wondering, should I check for a pulse, or just punch this numb-nut! OOOMMM be damned, this guy was in my way and I have the tools to kick his ass!
So, my plan is to hit the gym as early as possible, wrap up and take Nick's class. If I'm early enough I may jump into Kelly's class just to get loose. Then I'm going to punch, knee, elbow and kick every damn thing in sight. Then, I'm coming home to a hot shower (cuz there's still no friggin' bathtub!) and I'm going to light some soothing candles (and any reminder that they are dangerous etc. would be considered another one of those random acts of stupidity!), put on my fuzzy robe and Uggs and curl up in my favorite blanket (which better not be wrapped around you!).
Have a nice day!”
I can tell you when I got this email that my initial reaction was to make sure we had chocolate in the house when she came home.
But that would be wrong. Never bring home anything with calories in it when a woman is pissed off.
So I did the smart thing.
I hid.
What?
I may have to hide again after she reads this.
So why would I post this?
Because I think all women have probably had a day like that, but not all women send an email warning to their significant other basically saying, “Get the hell out of the house”.
My kind, loving, gentle, honest, fair, friendly, helpful, considerate, caring, courageous, strong, thoughtful, courteous, sweetheart had the forethought to let me know I could die if I screwed up on Friday.
That’s love people.
I wanted to share that with you.
It may save a life.
The voices in my head were in a hell of a conflict.
All men have two voices little voices in our heads that constantly battle for prime time, the ego voice which controls everything below the forehead, and the brain voice which usually pipes in just before we get in trouble for listening to the ego voice.
For example, for a forty-eight year old man the ego voice will spot a hot twenty something year old woman and say, “Hey… she wants you”, and the brain voice will say, “Uh…that’s too much work.”
So when I read my wife’s e-mail I was torn. The ego voice was saying, “Don’t be a wuss, it’s her fault for sending it to you.” and the brain voice was saying, “Um… she owns a sword.”
Then, as usual, the two voices reached a mutual understanding. We would call this a “guest post” from my wife on my blog.
How much trouble could I get in for that?
To set this up I need to say that during the day my wife works for a large defense contractor and deals all day with engineers and rocket scientists. So here is my wife’s unauthorized guest post.
The subject of her email was, “The Seventh Ring of PMS”.
“It’s not on any map, but all women eventually find themselves there, in a "just world” where God is a SHE. This is where men would end up when they found themselves lost and refuse to simply ASK FOR DIRECTIONS! Where is it....? Simply go to hell and hang a left!
I'm sooooo there! Picture the scariest thing you can imagine... yeah, that's it!! I'm stressed, I'm bloated, my back and legs are aching, I'm having a really bad hair day, my face looks like a pepperoni pizza (again) and every IDIOT SAVANT MAN on the planet has stopped by my desk today with a stupid-ass question! Did you KNOW rocket scientists were just as capable of random acts of stupidity as all other males??? Well, I'm here to tell ya, THEY ARE!
Add the fun, I'm craving (and not in an "oh, that sounds good" way, but in a "give it to me or DIE" way) chocolate... doesn't matter what form! So I went in search of a vending machine... walked in to find this guy standing there (all 250+ lbs of him, eyes glazed, lips slack, drool sliding down his chin). I very politely waited, giving him plenty of space... for about three minutes. Then I tried the "cough"... just to let him know someone was there (I was sure my presence in the room hadn't filtered to him yet). Still nothing... no movement, now the drool had slipped from his chin to his plaid button down shirt... yeah, he's a keeper. Finally, I decided to try humor, so I said, "it's sure hard to choose isn't it?".... NOTHING... now I'm wondering, should I check for a pulse, or just punch this numb-nut! OOOMMM be damned, this guy was in my way and I have the tools to kick his ass!
So, my plan is to hit the gym as early as possible, wrap up and take Nick's class. If I'm early enough I may jump into Kelly's class just to get loose. Then I'm going to punch, knee, elbow and kick every damn thing in sight. Then, I'm coming home to a hot shower (cuz there's still no friggin' bathtub!) and I'm going to light some soothing candles (and any reminder that they are dangerous etc. would be considered another one of those random acts of stupidity!), put on my fuzzy robe and Uggs and curl up in my favorite blanket (which better not be wrapped around you!).
Have a nice day!”
I can tell you when I got this email that my initial reaction was to make sure we had chocolate in the house when she came home.
But that would be wrong. Never bring home anything with calories in it when a woman is pissed off.
So I did the smart thing.
I hid.
What?
I may have to hide again after she reads this.
So why would I post this?
Because I think all women have probably had a day like that, but not all women send an email warning to their significant other basically saying, “Get the hell out of the house”.
My kind, loving, gentle, honest, fair, friendly, helpful, considerate, caring, courageous, strong, thoughtful, courteous, sweetheart had the forethought to let me know I could die if I screwed up on Friday.
That’s love people.
I wanted to share that with you.
It may save a life.
posted by Shrinking Wop at 8:31 AM
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