Miso party

There are too many women in this office now. Our ovaries will now have to do battle for the title of dominate pro-creator. Plus it's really boring, not because they are women but because they are no fun. Now excuse me, my dehydrated tofu bits have re hydrated in my mug of miso soup. You know what that means...MISO PARTY!!(cue:oom ts oom ts oom ts dance beat and a siren and coloured moving spotlights.).

Er, so....Yes I'm looking forward to going to California but who will vacuum and dust my house? It will be decaying and decrepit upon our return. This is what concerns me, entropy. That and re hyrdated tofu.

I can tell I don't have PMS anymore because this morning, an obnoxious 18 year-old sitting across from me on the train, stepped on my feet twice and knocked my knees about a hundred times as she put things incessantly in and out of her bags and tried on three different pairs of shoes she had with her. Three. 3 days ago and I probably would have strangled her with her own hair but today I actually didn't even care. In fact, I cared less than normal as this month's PMS was so exhausting that I just don't have any energy left to be annoyed. That'll last about 10 more minutes. Just a little sweet spot in the stormy world of Godzillabun's inner life. Don't you wish you could be here to share in it?