The monthly depression always hits around the end of the month.  I suppose it is really ever present, the sadness, but it visits more strongly near the end of the month. I associate the magnitude of the wave of possession it has on me with my ladies time or the phase of the moon.  The moon is young. Naturally, I must be preparing to bleed.

Today I couldn’t get up.  I didn’t take the kids to school. It’s Tuesday. The television has been on all day in my stead. I tried to work.  I hate the internet.

It’s nearly 2:30pm and the goodness of the girls is running out. It’s my fault, their boredom. They are screaming and chasing and crying at one another.  Bare feet on hardwood pounding back and forth around the house to give a rhythmic cadence to the chaos. I’m going to yell at them like I just did.  I fully expect to be ignored by them both. The ends justify the means.