One week out of the month, I have PMS, in varying degrees, which sucks big fat donkey dick no matter how mild it may be. But I also get something else in that week... I get organized.
Jimmy-Hoffa-fridges (* see my guest post on Judi's blog for that insider reference!) and closets that can crush you if opened too quickly don't stand a chance during this week. Neither does the most driven internet marketer or business person. I make my list and I plow through it like a Missouri Mule. My mother, sister and I all share this, common-to-us, but what I'm told by other women is bizarre, monthly hormonal effect.
We can walk into each others homes, see all of the furniture pushed to the center of the room because, "These baseboards were filthy! I couldn't stand it anymore!" and know exactly what is going on. It's not strange to us, even if the person cleaning their baseboards is down on their hands and knees with the vacuum and a bucket of water and a sponge and a rag, and is the type of person who usually doesn't notice when they've got stepped-on goldfish crackers on their living room rug.
We go a little overboard... kind of like opening the door to under the kitchen sink in order to get out paper towels, and winding up cleaning out the cabinet to such spotless, organized perfection that we could showcase it in House Beautiful. Doing laundry takes us three hours in the laundry room so we can move, vacuum, tighten hoses, pick up ALL the lint from the dryer-lint-trap no matter where it may be hiding, and organize the detergent, bleach and fabric softener in size order to attain the 'proper look'. Dressers get cleaned out and every stitch of clothes from bras to bathing suits get folded and put in their proper places. Bathrooms get cleaned and sanitized to such a degree that you could invite the Pope to eat on the floor behind the toilet. Windows get washed, inside and out with a streak-free shine for Pete's Sake! How much more neurotic than that can you get?
And all three of us are like this, we three witches of Endor. I've called us this for years due to our psychic links to each other, which are Strong, to put it mildly. My mother doesn't go through this anymore to the degree that sis & I do, in a word, menopause. But I remember how she was when I was growing up--speaking of my youth, this is also the time of month that our spouses (or your parents, if your child is ...well...Me!) will come home and find the entire house full of furniture re-arranged. I'm sure my mother vividly remembers the day she came home from work to find that I had designated my grandmother's old bedroom as the new TV room... Yeah, aren't you glad you weren't my parent, people. It's a wonder I've lived this long. And a shout out of appreciation to my Mom for that, she let it stay that way... until I changed it again.
...Anyway, (as I return from my flashback!) it is in this state of heightened-hormonal-manic-madness that I take my list in hand so that I have an actual direction for this organizational-juggernaut. Thank God for that, without the list, I'd be as flighty as a hummingbird! The hormones kicked in just in time, because I'm working on my other site... the one I actually got the dot-com for, back when I thought I could manage an e-commerce site on my own. Talk about over-reaching. I am way too picky to manage a site with as little webmaster experience as I have. This was also when I thought this site would just be my 'little personal outlet'. But hey, live and learn. So, after months of trying to figure out how to remove the dot-com thorn from my side, I've got a game plan...And My Hormone Frenzy... It's on like Donkey Kong! I'm in high gear and roaring to go, whipping things off my list in record time. Sometimes it really pays to be bullheaded; yay Taurus ascendant!
There is another saving grace to having a week of Super Woman. Next week when I'm cramping and laying like a sloth on the couch, feeding my sweet/salt cravings with Ruffles & cheesecake I'll look at what I got done this week, and I won't feel quite so bad, even if there are goldfish crackers stepped into the carpet.