This is probably how Britney felt the day she shaved her head.

Wednesday morning it became evident that it was going to be one of THOSE days.

You know, one of those days when my inherited tendency to act like a MENTALLY DERANGED LUNATIC is blatantly obvious to anyone within a 32.7 mile radius.

So, this is kind of like an update to let you all know that getting off The Pill really improved my depression and gave me back my libido, but it has done nothing for the fact that I am often an irritable, highly anxiety-prone, mega-BITCH who canNOT cope with the small things of life.

Fortunately, I am often in complete control of my emotions and behaviors.

Wednesday morning?  Not so much.

We had plans to go to the zoo with some lovely friends of ours.

I made John get up with Braden, and laid in bed, feeling GRUMPY.  (Why?  I have no idea, because I really was excited to go to the Zoo.)

Finally got up, while cursing the idea of EVER NOT SLEEPING.

Tried 239402938402938 times to fix my hair.  And then it still looked STUPID. 

Was exceedingly fat all morning. 

All my clothes were UGLY.

NONE of them fit. Who sent a midget clothes shopping for me?

Did not eat breakfast.  Instead ran around trying to find my bra.  WHO HID MY FREAKING BRA!? HM?

Was mad at John for breathing.  Forced him to do more house-leave-prep than usual because I was emotionally hyperventilating. 

It is possible that I may have been frothing at the mouth at some point.

Tried to make a grilled cheese sandwich for Braden.  BURNED THE HELL OUT OF IT.

Beat on the stove with the spatula because of the burned sandwich to teach it a lesson.

The stove did not respond in the approved manner, which would have been to unburn the sandwich for me.

Damn asshole, that stove.

But later, at the zoo, I was all better.  And really, once we were at the Monkey Exhibit, I was reflecting that I hadn’t behaved much better that morning than one of those hairy, tree-swinging beasts.

I have yet to fling poo.

But do not underestimate me.