I know it’s the week before my period when my favourite thing on earth—my beloved over-sized 3-year old kitten, George Michael, annoys the ABSOLUTE CRAP out of me. Unfortunately for him, the sound the creaky floorboards make in my new-old house as he innocently walks on them sounds just like the sound my couch makes when he is very deliberately destroying it. “STOP IT, GEORGE! NO!!!” I yell, as he gently walks into the living room.
There is a yard at our new place of which George is very well-aware, so he howls at me at all hours of the day to take him out. When I do finally put a harness on him and set him up on the long yellow cable outside, he takes on the frantic energy of someone who has just gone into an IKEA for the first time in their lives—but have been told they only have 15 minutes before they need to be back on the bus or they’ll miss their ride home. Instead of cheap, adorable kitchen accessories, he’s manically filling up his shopping cart with plants and fallen leaves, munching as he goes. “NO DON’T EAT THAT!!” I yell in futility, knowing I will find the contents of his shopping cart regurgitated into a perfectly-oblong pile on one of my rugs later.
George isn’t the only recipient of my pre-menses rage… I’ve also been yelling at my upstairs neighbors. I used to live on the top floor, so I’d forgotten how living below people, especially in an old house, feels like you’re sitting inside of a drum while someone bangs on it all day. Yesterday I was practicing part of the Brahms violin concerto with an earplug in my left ear because yup, can’t even handle the sound of MY OWN MUSIC… when I realized it seemed like the upstairs neighbor was waiting until the exact moment I played to shuffle a Steam-Vac or something across the floor. I’d stop, the noise would stop. I’d play again. SHVVVH SHVVVH. I’d stop. Nothing.
We went on like this for a while, before I yelled: “THAT’S SO DISTRACTING!! WHY ARE YOU ONLY MOVING WHEN I PLAY?!?” (I didn’t actually want the neighbor to hear me, but I figured at this point, they’d just think I was yelling at my cat) Anyway, it hit me as I stood there scheming, that the sound I was hearing was THE SOUND OF MY OWN BREATHING, because of the earplug in my left ear, and some congestion in my right. Apparently, I breathe like a psychopath when I play the violin.
So… wish everyone in my near vicinity luck, we’ve got 3 more days of this until I get to bleed for a whole week straight. Having a period is so fun.