Anyway, last night I took the night 'off' - which basically means that the only duty/responsibility/sensible thing I did was look after the sheep. This time, the tap on the tank from which I fill one of the troughs was broken, but ph3ar my resourceful skillz0rs, for I siphoned the tank to the trough. That's right boys, here is a girl who can siphon. And I'm not talking your pissy little petrol tank siphon hose, this is a fullsize water hose about 6 metres long.
(i may have developed this skill in dargaville in the days when i drove old crappy cars and could only afford to put $5 petrol in them at a time)
Now my lips hurt.
Anyway, the rest of the evening was spent in fairly trivial pursuits, which is a good thing because PMT has hit me hard, which basically means that my mind and body operate at about 80% and I'm more likely to snarl than smile. This is one of the things about being a woman* that I sometimes resent (although, usually only during PMT week).
Periods, while being something that isn't exactly pleasant, aren't a huge hassle either. I don't get pain like a lot of other women do, and blood? Well, go to a freezing works or a farm or a woolshed or anywhere that looks after animals, and I'll show you blood. So *shrug* not that big a deal.
The whole societal separation/chauvanism/attitudes to women thing tends to go right over my head these days. Or, more accurately, under my heels. Been there, done that, railed against it, then learned something from my brother, along the lines of learning the system and getting inside it before using it to one's own ends. *shrug* I don't know if that's worded right, and I also know that society's changing. When I first started out, female farm managers were front-page-worthy news, now they're everywhere. And these days, I consider myself to be a work of self-actualisation in progress, I have confidence, and the whole woman barrier thing isn't an issue.
Being smaller and weaker than men only bothers me when I have to arm-wrestle one. The rest of the time the result is usually that someone else offers to carry the heavy thing that I could carry but don't want to, or I get to calve cows and lamb ewes while the big-handed, big-muscled men get to dig ditches.
But, PMT? Messes with my head. Makes the three things listed above seem like overwhelming barriers as my body goes to the pack with sore breasts, back pain and loss of coordination, my confidence flies out the window, and I suddenly start reacting instead of responding. I feel, at times, like I'm going insane. Not in the 'grab a chainsaw and go nuts in Courtenay Central' kind of way, but more in the 'I know how people with bipolar disorder feel' kind of way. It's not fun.
All I can do is recognise the signs, keep reminding myself that it's hormonal not permanent, and in a couple of days I'll be fine. To all those of you who question the existence or validity of PMT, I'd just like to say that in the last few years, most of the days I've had off work due to being *cough*sick*cough*, when I haven't actually been dying of the flu or a stomach bug, have been the week before my period. Yes, my productivity as a good little capitalist** is affected by this. It makes my head not -want- to work, and manifests symptoms so I don't have to. It affects my judgement and my ability to keep myself safe. And as such, like a lot of other mental illnesses*** (this one albeit very short term), I see it as legitimate and worth taking sick leave over.
* There is a balance upside to being a woman. When I'm ovulating, I feel ten feet tall and bulletproof, sexy, smart, funny, and altogether as if I just did a whole lot of coke without the comedown or the erratic behaviour. Note: the ovulation high and the pmt low only started when I stopped taking hormone-interfering contraceptive pills and got an IUD, and they've both got more noticeable as I've got older.
** See title for this post.
*** Yes, it is. Chemical changes in the brain cause alteration in mood, anxiety, physiological symptoms, that affect one's ability to interact with society? Can we say biopsychosocial? (luckily, it's only a couple of days a month for me)
Yep, that was a whole lotta TMI, right there.
Anyway, last night I didn't even do my readings for today's lecture. This morning I set my alarm to get up in time to do them, and lo and behold, there are none! Instead, today we're going to learn about how to write an essay.
I am one lucky chica, no?
And after that, I'll probably go sit in the library and admire the view till Fidel's time. This means I won't be interacting, the world is safe from me, and by later this afternoon, the effects should be starting to wear off. Win-win.
(ps, ice cream helps)