One of the many unpleasant features about PMSing is that, in the back of your mind, you know that eventually you will just be M-sing. The former is highly unpleasant for everyone else and the latter is highly unpleasant for you. And, if you’re me, still somewhat unpleasant for everyone else.
Today was a little busy -which was a nice distraction from the mutiny within- and I got a lot of things that didn’t involve eating done. Coffee, a meal does not make. Among the myriad super-fun side effects of M-sing is that you suddenly look like you’ve been poured into your clothes and forgot to say “when”. Normally not much of an issue because you can maim anyone who makes a smart comment but, seeing as how I had an important meeting coming up with people that I didn’t want to maim and no suit-jacket, I wasted my entire lunch hour finding a pretty poplin jacket that fit beautifully. And to not finding shoes.
A kind co-worker well-versed in dealing with moody women gave me a huge vat of Lindt chocolates for Christmas which tided me over until the cafe downstairs closed, about two minutes after which I became insanely hungry. But of course once the cafe closed, I was basically screwed until it was time to go home.
Tonight while attempting to satiate the raging beast within by expediting the ordering of take-out, I dumped my purse all over the counter and sifted through the wreckage for the debit card and instead found a movie stub. This movie stub didn’t have the movie name, date and time on it like normal movie stubs; this one said:
“I saw The Descendants and it changed the way I felt about ___________”
And that movie made me reflect on the way I felt about a lot of things. What constitutes ‘normal’, family, relationships, marriage and death. When you lose someone, there’s a tendency to idealize their character – to remember and mourn the good about that person and any good left undone. Maybe a lot of it is selfish, too. Wishing things had been different, wishing missed opportunities had been taken advantage of. There’s a second loss in there: the memory of the whole – it’s easy to forget the person’s flaws and shortcomings. I don’t think it’s love once you lose sight of those things. The Descendants showed the good, unearthed the flaws and left you in love – it was an amazing movie.
So now that stupid Chris Brown song makes me erupt into hiccuping body-racking mucus-y sobs. In a good way, if that makes any sense.
Life goes on – differently.