Thunder and Light

Premenstrual I guess, as I feel thunderous. I can feel it in my belly grumbling, a special kind of belly grumble that grows, but more, its in the fury I feel at stupid little things. The way I am inclined to tell the woman next to me to go sit somewhere else because I can’t bear the way she is riffling through her handbag and cleansing out receipts reading every one of her million folder A4 brochures about winning holidays, winning prizes through crossword puzzles, wining winning winning a new life. She peers at them earnestly over little round dusty glasses, and looks like a fat little penguin with grey short hair. I feel angry and want to say ‘do you mind? Could you stop that? It’s very annoying.’ And it is annoying, her disquiet, her furtive rustling, her intentness in it all, but really I know that its my hormones (I hope its my hormones).

What evolutionary benefit this monthly rage? Maybe to stop us wasting energy trying to reproduce when ones egg has started to slide out of its little nest. Maybe to balance the sadness and tenderness that comes as well, maybe to spring clean ones life.

But now I turn on the computer and put in ear phones, listen to bossa nova – and it is so relaxed and gentle that I am softly transformed and regain a little of that ‘aaah’ sinking into a moment feeling. It reminds me also of the nice boy who lent this to me, and the funny spontaneous chat we had about music. It makes me feel more relaxed, even though I can now see the penguin copying out a shopping list from a diet she has torn out from a magazine, which presents a base line of infuriating, which I now just note and slide past in bossa nova joy.