"Werewolvery"

I think werewolves were real. I believe they actually existed - and still exist. After all, there have been records of them in many unrelated cultures across the globe. But in the old days, when men first came up with the term, they used a few distractions and a little lies so we thought they were magical mystical shapeshifters, men (the word 'wer-' means 'man' in the sense of male humans) who transformed into terrible beasts at the onset of the full moon. Here's the reality:
1. They're not physical shapeshifters.
2. It's not necessarily the 'full moon', it's just a term for 'once a month'.
3. They're not men, they're women.

They're perfectly normal ordinary-looking women, some of them fairly pretty, I suppose, for why should they be excluded? They're perfectly well-behaved women ... for twenty-five out of thirty days. I'm sure some are very intelligent, some very talented, some are wonderfully patient and understanding and thoughtful and kind and gentle and generous and ... you get the picture. And a large chunk of them are probably a fair mixture of all of these wonderful qualities and a delight and joy to be with - most of the time.

The moon waxes and wanes. Ditto, all that wonderfulness. Most people don't feel the full force of the werewolvery but those who're closest to Ms.Perfect usually do. Suddenly they're dealing with bitchy and cranky and clingy and suspicious and annoying and tiresome and emotionally draining and just plain irritating and "oh my God you don't like me any more and are going to break up with me NOW, in the next call" and "I hate you, no I don't, yes I think I do, well I'm not sure, and whatever" and "WHY don't you ever call me??" when we just got off the phone an hour ago, and on and on and on and on....

Excuse the woman with PMS, Fi. Especially one who's under additional stress already. I wish I could do what Lupin does each month and curl up in the corner of my room so I don't upset the world around me, roommates included. But I cannot. Then I try not to keep in touch with most people right around now. I can isolate myself from almost everyone, family and you excluded; and the distance makes it possible to be Ms.Perfect all the time with my family. But unfortunately, that means you take the brunt of my once-a-month madness. I know you're very tempted to leave me alone for these two or three days and I know it's sheer love and concern and loads of courage that make you call me to ensure I'm okay, and most of the time I'm very very aware that what I give you back in return is something you definitely do not deserve. All I can say in my defense is, I'm sorry. I try, but a large chunk of this state is physiological, rather than purely psychological.

And thank you, Fi, for your shepherding par excellence.