I HATE hormones! RARGH!

Ok, so Boy probably hates them more, but he doesn't get to count because they are my hormones and therefore everything is about me. Me, me, me!

I want to kill. Everything is having a nails on blackboard sensation.

People keep breathing at me funny, let alone the way they are looking.

I hate money. I want salt laden poppadums and curry but we have no bloody money for it because it is January and money is always hell in January. Oh, and February because you are still recovering from January and have 3 birthdays all on the same day, 2 the two days after, one of those you owe 2 years worth of presents so it will cost even more, and one is your son!

Until I do all the adding up I can't even risk buying cheap aldi wine because I need to work out the budget for the month.

Boy isn't helping me (most likely for fear of being yelled at for doing it wrong).

I have turned into a fire breathing beast. It is mainly pmt, and a small part disappointment - having had to ponder for the last 2 weeks about whether my stomach pains are baby related, it gave me time to get used to the idea of having one. I know having one would be stupid for sooo many reasons, but my baby is suddenly not a baby anymore and dammit I'm broody.

So, here I sit, playing cards

"I see spiders mummy"

"Hmmm?"

"What are those spiders for mummy?"

"They are stopping me killing people."

"Oh..."



I want to be a MAN. They go bald and get a bit impotent. I can handle that.