For those unfamiliar with the acronym, UMS = Ugly Mood Syndrome. It is like PMS, only worse. UMS can make PMS look like a camp fire compared to an atomic bomb going off. This is the sort of thing for which hubby claims was his reason for bailing out, the occasional, explosive side of me, the ugly monster within. I never did believe that, my sister-in-law has no intention of ever ditching my brother, and his temper makes mine look very tame. Ex-hubby has quite the temper himself, though lives in denial, every member of my family has seen it at one time or another. But this isn’t about him, it is about me, the star of my own reality show. We stripped him of his award for best supporting actor, the has been. He will never star in my show again.
Back in January I went to the doctor after Lord Voldemort yanked my foundation out from under me. Didn’t know if I really felt I had issues, but knew that I was not steady emotionally thanks to the great vibes (heavy on the sarcasm) he was dishing my way. Doc put me on Lexapro to help with the ensuing depression and it also helps with my anger. Not that I don’t get angry, I still experience a full range of emotions, but the difference is I have time to process before reacting. My sibling put it best, it is like typing on the computer and there is a slight delay, you type a few letters, and it takes a second or two for whatever reason, for the PC to catch up at times and the letters to appear on the screen. That is life on Lexapro, being just a key stroke or two behind. In those nano seconds common sense is able to over ride my desires to choke the living hell out of some jackass that truly has it coming. It enables me to stop typing or close my mouth when what I really want to do is tell someone that they are nothing short of an ugly, skank whore with a perpetual bitter beer face and have the attractiveness in personality of stagnant water.
UMS doesn’t happen often, usually I’m pretty happy over all. Just once in a while this demon within wakes and tries to over ride my sweet, adorable disposition. 99% of the time I am able to control this apparition from hell and get her back in her crypt behind bars, even without the help of the medication. Today would be the grand exception, the single, 1% of the time when she slips past the locks, out of her cell, past the guards and emerges, taking over my mind, heart and soul. To make it worse, she unlocked the crypt of PMS and they’ve joined forces. There has been a major hull breach, can you say epic fail?
There may be some contributing factors, some for which I accept full responsibility, others beyond the realm of my control. I believe the security began to fail yesterday, when I THINK I forgot to take my meds. I do not recall taking them at all, but it is usually such habit that I just ‘do it’ every morning (if I could just do IT every morning I’d not need meds!). Yesterday afternoon I had this annoying little headache, and a few times had chest pains, sure signs of stress for me on a very easy going day. It never crossed my mind I might have forgotten something, my mood stayed even.
The first real sign of failure to sedate Cruella was last evening. I had purchased more spray-in pink hair dye while out shopping with my daughter. She had come to dine with the Divas and brought along her little Yorkie, Penny. I miss that sweet little pooch. Voldemort refers to her as numb nuts, which is just stupid as she is female, hasn’t owned a set of nads and never will, so nothing to be numb. DUH LOSER! (so sorry, inner voice grabbed control) I know deep down he loves the dog and HATES the pink hair. Waahaaahaaa….Penny went home with neon pink hair on top of her little doggie head. The fact that I had TRIED to find a way to irritate him and say “hi asshole brains” was a sure indicator that I missed my happy pill yesterday.
Act II – I know for certain I did NOT take the medication this morning. I had not taken my water bottle to my room so I had nothing to wash the pill down with today. This is NOT a good thing. Today, I first noticed the evil presence growing in my mind on the way to work. Traffic just sucked ass today, and normally being stopped on the highway doesn’t phase me in the least, I just read tweets or emails on my phone. Not today, no this morning I felt irritated, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, not being a sweet heart and letting people merge in that knew their lane was closed because the lane has been shut down for road work for 2 weeks now. Nope, didn’t let them in and referred to them in less than kind terms as I pretended not to see them with their little orange turn signal blinking to get over. Fuck ’em, I thought, they have known that lane was ending for weeks now, they can sit and wait for a break in traffic. SO not like me, usually I let them all over. Because traffic was so horrendous today (there was a broken down vehicle in the left lane on the highway, idiot!), I was 15 minutes late for work. I am NEVER late, always 15-30 minutes early as my personal work ethic dictates. 30 extra minutes on the flipping interstate, oh that did wonders for my mood. Now lunch is 15 minutes shorter, so that I can make up the time because I am too honest to lie on my time sheets.
I can feel it seeping through my veins more and more as this day progresses. I usually can talk an irate customer back to happy land, today I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling them to go straight to hell. I take pride in my customer service skills, today I’d like to begin piling up the bodies against the wall, screw being the nice production manager.
The #$@%^&! printer is also out of toner, and no replacement in sight. Bossman has to come in today so he is grabbing one, thankfully. I’m out of diet coke in the fridge, NOT good because all that is in here is Diet Mt. Dew, which I really do not care for at all.
I decided that this called for a trip to Chipotle for comfort food. All was good until I was in the car, ready to back out of my parking spot. Some shit-for-brains that had obviously borrowed someone’s license to drive there herself, couldn’t pick a parking spot, it was just too big of a decision for her pea size brain to handle. Never mind that there were only 2 to chose from, one on the right side of me and one on the left. She seriously sat there, finger to her mouth, looking back and forth between them like she was watching a tennis match. ARGH!!!!!! REALLY LADY?? Morons like her are the reason I usually back into a parking place, so that when I punch it and squeal tires heading toward them to ram the shit out of them I can see the look of terror in their eyes I should take my medication daily.
Diva Mom, I know you will read this, please hide all the alcohol before I get home. The heinous spirit within is all the more ugly when it consumes adult beverages. It will result in a much higher body count and we’re rapidly running out of places to dispose of the cadavers.
If the rest of the world that plays supporting roles in my reality show would just read their damned scripts this could all be avoided!
WARNING TO ALL SWINE (MEN): This would NOT be a good day to piss me off.
you do know Mt Dew ‘s color comes from a portion of swine products… gee i wonder why you hate it now…the Mt Dew. that is
throat punch first .. then woodchipper.
I LOVE how my blog sistas think!
Pills in a days of the week dispenser would take care of the medicine dilema. Large chainsaw shall take care of the trouble makers when you forget to take the medicine. Hopefully, you have a better life either way!
Well you could do like we Italians do, fit em for cement shoes a diving gear without the oxygen tanks!!!
OMG, that’s hilarious. I have seven and a half acres plus a pond; I’m sure we can find room to bury the bodies if you need it.
wood chipper and hog lot….. all I’m saying
ROFLMAO!!! That sounds excellent!
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