Deep in the throes of PMS I threw a fine and inspiring tantrum. My boss wanted me to come back to work at 10 pm so I could participate in the noise test of dancing upstairs and, while I wasn't happy about it at 6:00 pm when I was leaving, by 8:30 pm I was positively hysterical. So I decided not to go, which pissed off my daughter A, who had come home for the express purpose of giving me the car so I could go dance at work. Her comments on the matter then led me to express my extreme dissatisfaction with life, the universe and the dog, in no uncertain terms. Finally my daughter screamed, "Just what is it you want me to do?!?!" And I said, "I want you to fight with me, obviously!!"
Somehow this made us all feel better.
I tell you what though, I can't handle much more of that dog shredding things and leaving the fragments all over the floor. It's driving me insane, as is my job.
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