Listen. If I’m in a “mood” and I say I hate everyone and everything and that I really would love everyone and everything to shrivel up and die or just explode or implode or disappear immediately in a variety of ways, methods, and modes, please don’t tell me to smile or cheer up, OK? Smiles are not umbrellas. And that thing about making lemonade? Well, you don’t even want to know what I think about that. (Really, you don’t.)
Don’t chuckle and say it must be “PMS” or “hormones”. Don’t say it must be “that time of the month” or I must be “on the rag”. Don’t ask me if I know if there’s a full moon or not. Don’t ask me what crawled up my ass and died. All of those options are way too banal, trite, hackneyed, and a thousand other words that you can find in your thesaurus.
Don’t tell me “this too will pass”, because, believe me, I know. It always does. And then it always comes ’round again. I know. I’ve been there. And back.
Just so you know.