What I really, really LOVE about being a woman is that once a month, with clockwork precision I will utterly and completely lose. my. shit to PMT, and despite nearly twelve years together now, my wonderful, amazing, kind, thoughtful husband still DOES NOT SEE IT COMING.
I’m not sure why, as I’ve been in possession of a vagina for the whole time. I’ve also had a fairly reasonable brain this whole time too. But let me tell you where it goes for 5 days a month: the fucking MOON that’s where, according to my husband, whilst he watches in bewildered terror as I weep at an advert then segue effortlessly into punching the contents of the fridge *whilst also rejoicing privately at the cooling effect of the chilled air on my hot cross face*.
I’m convinced that no man alive gets it – how could they? But more to the point: how do they NOT KNOW this is coming each month? To help your husband along, here’s a cut out and keep guide to some classic mistakes he might be making. Point him in the direction of this advice, so he’s prepared for next time…
Mistake 1: The Grump
It is helpful to think of PMT not as your lady friend “being grumpy” but rather reframe in terms of “absolutely no tolerance of your usual standard of fuckwittery”. Don’t even think about attempting to do, or not do, anything at all during this time. This way you will be safer. It’s highly likely your wife wants to beat you / eat you / leave you – do not do anything to increase these chances. Best to stand extremely still. Silently. For the whole five days if possible.
Mistake 2: The Night Sweats
During the night, your wife is not “being a fidget”. The physical cost of processing all the built up rage at everything everyone has ever done, ever, this week is causing her to be hotter than the actual sun, and waking up drenched in your own angry sweat for a few nights running is not to be mocked until tried. Recreate the effect by wrapping yourself in tinfoil and sleeping in your oven to see how you like it. Bonus points if you bring along an unwittingly irritating companion labrador, who will pant too closely to you and try to lick you. Not fun.
Mistake 3: The Tears
Crying once in a while is good for the soul. Admittedly, it’s a little unusual to cry at all the adverts, but think of it this way: at least she is not punching you. That usually comes after the crying when you fail to intuit that what is needed is an immediate 3000 calories and a delivery of fizzy wine to restore mental harmony. You idiot.
Mistake 4: The Rows
What you might consider to be ‘illogical’ reasoning during seemingly innocent discussions is quite the opposite. During this time your wife can access higher parts of the brain that only function under times of extreme duress i.e. when you picked up the remote control “wrong”, or some bread “looked at you funny”. Don’t try and fight it. Nod and smile, repeat. She is MUCH TOO SMART to deal with your shit right now you idiotic cockwomble (to précis).
Mistake 5: The Rage
Now is the time to harness the power of the fury your wife is experiencing. All your social problems can be solved by allowing your enraged wife to comment on the shit memes that annoying Facebook friend of yours shares, and voila: instant unfriend. It’s also particularly effective when dealing with British Gas, BT and any other complaints procedure you might encounter. She’ll be shouting / weeping in no time. For what it’s worth, it’s the weeping which always trumps in these sorts of situations, and she is MUCH BETTER AT IT THAN YOU. Obviously.
Mistake 6: The Sexy Time
Resist your conviction that your wife’s area is a handy ‘penis cupboard’ for storing your irritating dick in whenever the whim takes you. In fact, abandon all hope of coming within about five metres of her, at least until the storm has passed. She’s as angry as a smacked up badger for absolutely no reason: ain’t nobody got time for THAT. If you have children, magnify this sentiment to weapons grade level and then just fuck to the far side of off for your own safety. That should just about cover it. There’s always next week!
Mistake 7: Everything you’ve ever said, everything you’ve ever done
Accept it – ‘happy wife, happy life’ is a saying for a reason. We can’t help it. We really DO like you. Just…not right now. And could you turn that down? And put your shoes away. FFS.
DISCLAIMER: It is entirely possible that this might be written from the inside of a red mist of unreasonable rage at nothing in particular. Sorry about it. What are you going to do?
Why not join my irrational anger management collective on facebook for notifications of new posts and other idiotic, untested advice?
Follow me on twitter for more of the same
Calming views of sunsets on Instagram here. And breeeeeathe.