Apparently, I can't count

I have been beyond grouchy. I didn't sleep all day yesterday, the dogs tried to make me insane and everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) was making me either furiously angry or burst into tears. All I wanted to do was eat chocolate, drink copious amounts of alcohol and beat things with tire irons. I wanted to kick puppies and barbeque kittens. I was in that kind of mood.

I mean, there was a guy parked in the driving lane on my way to work and it was all I could do not to just crash into his rear end and push him out of my way. I might have except for the fact that I was late. (Something that pisses me off more than being pissed off is being late.) Then I was sarcastic to the first 5 people I talked to and I commented to my co-worker "Which fuckwit am I stuck with tonight?"

So, I'm chatting with Ky and telling her how grouchy I am and how baffled I am by this, when she says to me "Are you sure you aren't just PMSing?"

Damn it. I hate it when Ky is right. You would think after 19 years of this crap, I would figure it out.