PMS - or - Why I Could Eat a Horse

Warning: To anyone for which the subject of PMS makes them uncomfortable - this BLOG is not for you.

I started my day with the usual dash-to-work. Throwing my gourmet, instant-lunch into my satchel and running to my car. Today was a step-up from the usual cup-o-soup: it was some shmancy peanut-noodle dish. It required a full 2 minutes of microwaving. When it came time to eat ( I was starving by 11:00, and I'd had an egg and toast for breakfast around 8:00), I began reading the instructions on the wrapping of my entree'. You're absolutely right. The word "entree' " and the word "wrapping" should probably never be together in a sentance. I digress. I knew this was gourmet, because it had more than two directions. I had to "...dump the entire contents of the bowl - out - place the vegetables and a tablespoon of water in the bottom of said bowl, add noodles and sauce, heat for two minutes - and then add the crumbled peanut topping." I read the directions three, count em', three times. Just to make sure I wouldn't screw up any part of my fine dining experience. About right now you're probably wondering how this relates to PMS. I'm getting to that. It ties in quite nicely, in fact. Because where I'm headed - in a three-legged-mule sort of way, is that although I successfully, and with the help of the microwave oven that is so old it sometimes shorts-out the upstairs electrical system, made a bowl of exotic, peanut-esque noodles with vegetables (what a laugh - they were cut to exactly the miniscule size perfect for getting stuck between ones' teeth), I did not come anywhere near my PMS-required amount of protein.
After work, I went straight to the grocery store, and proceded to procure these ingredients (see if you notice any patterns or theme): Maple-port sausage, celery, juice, Turkey dogs, a small but luscious looking Sirloin Beef Roast, and Extra-Sharp White Cheddar Cheese. I think I had the roast and all the veggies cut, seasoned, and under foil in aprox. 10 minutes flat. Apparently, I am PMS-ing. And I am a very hungry woman. For the next two weeks I will consume mostly protein-based foods, be cranky, and write BLOGS about "being so hungry I could eat a horse!" Where did we get that saying, anyway?

Best,

Deborah