TAMOXIRAGE!!!

GRRRRR.

Holy crap. I'm not even bi-polar on this shit. Can you be tri-polar? Or more?

Multi-polar?

I admit, we had a really late night. Actually I think my head hit the pillow at 4am. It was fun, but damn. And for the past few weeks, I've said at least daily: "I'm going to punch someone in the face today". Of course, I'm not violent, but this stuff? This hormone altering pill? Makes you want to punch someone in the face.

I luckily have kept my fist at bay.

First it was the guy on the airplane who, upon my reclining of my seat, started to push it and complained that his knees were crushed. I kept my smile on, and got upgraded. Not mad about stretching my legs out for the entire flight. The flight attendant kept offering me a drink - I think she wanted to get me drunk, but I was fine. I told her that I needed a cup of coffee, and that I was glad that I was ME and not HIM, who was having a crappy day. I didn't tell her that I have cancer - I mean, what's crappier than that?

Yeah. I'd rather be a cancerous woman than a cranky old man. So I guess I'm still ahead of the game.

Anyway, back to today. I woke up around 8 and tossed and turned until 10. Finally got up. Washed my hair. Tried to be productive, which was dumb. Considered going to the gym, but the bed seemed like a better choice, so I sent hubby to pump iron without me.

After all that? We haven't had date-night time in a long time, but damn, if I couldn't get my brain out of my bitch funk. Finally I had some yogurt and blackberries, to help my blood sugar. A big glass of iced coffee, courtesy of hubby - who really tries hard to help. There is just so much that you can do to help a tamoxi-raging woman. Seriously. It's dangerous territory. Tread carefully, people.

But, I got it together enough to hit the diner. We considered something fancier, but I didn't want to "waste" a lovely experience. The diner? F'ing amazing. Fried calamari, and then we split a cobb salad and a reuben sandwich. Only in NYC. That sandwich is the devil. I think I might allow one a year now - it's something I never ordered before, but it all sounded like a cure for some horrible mood swinging.

IT WORKED! A Christmas Miracle! The Reuben Hormonal Rage Cure! I am hoping to get a grant to study this further, perhaps have the FDA approve my Emergency Reuben Packets. In case of tamoxirage, break glass.  Before you punch someone in the face. Mmmm.  Thank you, Reuben.

I think my blood sugar was part of the problem, but still - there's a reason that they prescribe an anti-depressant along with this crap. I don't want to take anything more, but if this shyte continues, I can't afford the Reuben calories often. Oh, because tamoxifen makes you fat, too.

Some days, cancer is more appealing than the "cure".