I am board and waiting for Mr. Jitter’s to get home from teaching so we can eat dinner and make each other laugh.  So, you lucky ones get to be my outlet for pent up extrovert energy since I feel like I have been laughing all day in my head at funny things and have had no one to share them with. (Other than DD who I just got off the phone with  – in my best east coast Jewish accent “love her”)

For example, I need to share the fact that I just finished making a batch of Jitter’s Famous Egg Salad for dinner (to be served on toasted Pumernickel with a side of tomato soup) and I actually felt sorry for the chicken whose egg I was shelling.  Now, I a non-ashamed carnivore, often feel sorry for animals our society consumes but instead of choosing to not eat them I buy ones that were supposedly treated well before we mercilessly killed them for our capitalistic driven food market.  It is probably all a hoax, but it eases my mind as I chomp on a side of bacon.  Back to the chicken, as I was shelling the freshly boiled eggs I was making a mess of the egg.  The shells were sticking and I was destroying the eggs in the process.  As the egg fragments sat on my cutting board waiting to be chopped I noted that the poor chicken must also have “egg issues”, just like me.  Aww, the poor chicken may also be infertile.  I hope there are some little chicks she can adopt and imprint herself as mother on them.

Pathetic, huh.  Does it make more sense if I tell you that today is CD1 and I was not expecting it because I really stopped playing calendar games.   Unfortunately my lack of planning left me dealing with the crotch lava while standing at a job fair downtown all day.  I should have seen it coming when I found myself crying a few days ago as I read “How much is the puppy in the window” which I was purchasing off the discount book rack for our future child.  Or when I again cried as I drove by our striking university workers because I was just so proud of them standing up for what they believe in, even though I know the group is mostly composed of graduate students eager to jump on the bandwagon of any social justice cause.  How about that jar of frosting I spooned into my mouth and directly to my thighs last night after I polished off the caramel candy corn.

To add more excitement to my evening,  my house seems to be a place where all lost dogs come. I was just interrupted by my dear std. poodle barking in a way he only does when another dog is lurking outside our front porch. I swear, he invites them over because they always come to my house.  I got to play doggie rescue lady and call the owner who just came to pick her up wayward chocolate lab. Come on people get a fence or leash your dog.  Now the beatch side of me is coming out.

Go period – it’s your start day- go period – get it on.

Who knew CD1 could be such a riot.  Perhaps next month I will take my period shopping or to dinner and a movie. It may not work well for her to get a pedicure, huh?  She is going to be around for the rest of my middle life so I better buy that Cost-co sized box of tampons and force a friendship.

Raise your glasses (please no tomato juice) to my new monthly BFF.