PMS Replacement

I am probably one of the few women in the world that misses PMS. Instead of getting bitchy, I went into overdrive accomplishing chores that I had put off for four weeks. My roommates used to either save up things for me to do, or hide out during this period.

The scene in my novel Chickpea Lover, where the heroine washes the inside of the chimney, is autobiographical. Sadly the following sex scene wasn’t.

Today I went into overdrive in cleaning just like I did with PMS. My daughter has mocked me because I wash my cleaning appliances and I do admit I am neurotic. I don't want dust under my fridge, dust between my books. I wash off fingerprints on my cooking appliances, etc. Mega cleanings means moving everything out including the fridge and washer.

In a small space this isn’t that hard. Before Gérard, the unusual on-time French workman, pointed the original stone wall, it gave off dust to the point that if I swept down the stairs, by the time I was back up they were coated again. I suspected Catalan Leprechauns were bringing sand in from the beach just to dirty my stairs, but that is a problem of the past.

Anyone reading this who is planning to visit me, Rosemary and others, don’t worry that my neurosis will ruin your holiday. I revert to something normal when I have company. It may be all the threats of nursing homes if I didn’t shape up made by my daughter. She means now, not when I become old and infirm.

Today’s surge had nothing to do with PMS. I have found another catalyst. There was an article I didn’t want to write. Computer or cleaning cloth? The cloth won.