Earlier tonight while we were bathing Leta I had dinner on the stove and it was on the verge of burning. Jon was in the middle of trying to fix the spout of the faucet in the sink, except he made it a little worse than better, and I had the overwhelming urge to claw at my face in agony like a ten-month-old with baby with Armstrong blood coursing through her veins.
I thought, why am I so irritated? And then I remembered: in T-minus five hours my period starts.
CASE. CLOSED.