Cranky with a side of hormones

Okay chalk this one up for the TMI column, but usually I get PMS about a week before a certain Red Caped Visitor appears. I never know right off that I am pms-ing. OH-no, that would be too easy. I never realize right off that it is not normal for me to nearly start bawling when I can't find a pen to sign the time sheet with. It's only once I have my palms jammed into my eyes that I think "what the hell am I getting so upset about??" and then I look at the calendar and go "OH." and magically all distraught-osity vaporizes and I am once again a fairly level human being. Usually once I have one of these "episodes" I know that a certain multi-day chocolate craving, advil popping, restless sleeping, heating-pad dependent festival is not too far away. But not this month. OH No, it was "Oh my god I'm turning into Sybil" then bam! "Ouch. Where's the advil?" Of course this means that my usual one episode of....postalness... is sort of stretched out. Instead of one or two major bouts of tantrum, it's a drawn out simmer of irritation and frustration. I feel like I should be walking around with a baseball cap that reads "Approach at your own risk." I'm pretty sure that goes against the bookstore dress code though. Bah. Fore-warned is Fore-armed I say. Fore-warned is Fore-armed. (is there an e in either of those prefixes? Suddenly I feel about as adept at spelling as Dan Quayle)