I Hate PMS and Have Only 10 Minutes to Write This- AAAHHHHH!

I have PMS, which if you think is a fictional malady I freely invite you into my head to take part in the not-so-fictional war with my hormones, and am having a few anger issues at the moment. This is okay, I accept it as a general part of my fucking shitty life!! Oops, sorry. PMS is kind of like having Tourettes Syndrome but (hopefully) only in your mind and for just one miserable week...a month. This does not really serve as a consolation when my head is exploding and I'm feeling overly stressed out about my disgusting pigsty of a room I will have approxiamtely 2.461 minutes to miraculously render navigable for the week-long parade of houseguests that I will be an inferior hostess to. Luckily I am having sex with one of them, which generally tends to nullify any and all issues of slovenliness, provided enough of a space is cleared to enable horizointal positioning. This knowledge does nothing, however, to alieviate the knots in my back and tapping of my foot while I watch the minutes tick by and realize I should have left 5 minutes ago! Damn blogging addiction! AAAAHHHHH!