(SM and I are in the process of giving the master bath a face lift. I want to repaint the walls and cabinet so I brought home a bunch of paint samples from Sherwin Williams. They were having a 40% off sale this past weekend that I wanted to take advantage of.)
So SM is wanting to head out to work but I ask him to wait so we can look at the paint "chips" together and make a final decision so I can go buy the paint.
"Let me go get some tape and tape these to the wall." I say going into the kitchen while SM heads to the computer to check an email.
(*I like to step back from the wall a bit with the paint chip taped to the wall. It gives me a better idea how things will look plus you can move it around the room to catch different lighting.)
I look in the kitchen junk drawer. No tape. Except for some clear "packing tape" which I go ahead and grab along with some scissors. Back in the bathroom I start to tape the paint chips to the wall.
After a minute or two the chip falls off the wall so I pick it back up and using my finger nail rub the tape harder to the wall to get it to stick.
I step back with SM. More chips fall off the wall.
"Son of a B!t@h.." I exclaim, moving forward to grab at the chips.
"There's some masking tape in the garage, do you want me to go get it?" SM asks.
"Yeah...This stuff is $h!t" I reply trying to tape them back onto the walls.
(As SM leaves I hear his phone go off which he answers as he's heading down the hallway.)
By this time my temper is up and my body decides to rejoice in the moment by giving me a hotflash. So I'm shucking off my hoodie, grabbing at paint chips as they fall when I reach the hottest, sweatiest point in the flash and I SNAP.
I mean I REALLY SNAP....
"Bloody Fuc&!ng B@$tards" I rage, grabbing the roll of packing tape pulling out a 4 foot piece of tape and slapping it on the wall to keep the chips in place. And I keep slapping the wall growling obscenities at it (because it feels good) until I happen to catch a look at myself in the mirror.
Red faced, sweaty and frazzled.
When I realize I've gone over the edge, I start laughing. And then I'm laughing so hard I start crying.
I wander out to find SM who's standing there with a roll of masking tape in his hands asking "WHAT is going ON? What was all that pounding about?"
"I've lost it. I've gone over the edge." I say laughing harder. The look on SM's face is priceless. And I know what he's thinking.
*SM has a golf buddy that I've nicknamed "Stinky Steve" because he smokes and I can't stand the smell of smoke. Stinky Steve's wife (whom I've never met) went through menopause a few years ago and had a tendency to throw things at her husband. Often.
SM takes a slight step away from me as I try to get a grip and stop laughing, wiping my eyes.
"It's OK, I left the scissors in the bathroom." I say "I'm sorry it just felt so good to pound on that wall."
"So you don't have any ashtray's you're going to fling at my head?" SM asks as we walk back to the bathroom.
"No you're safe enough. And there's no need for the masking tape. I took care of it." I say pointing to the wad of packing tape holding up the paint chips.
"Geez..Tam. Did you use enough tape?" He asks. I let out a giggle.
Wow...Never snapped like that before. No wonder moodiness is listed as a menopausal symptom.
Maybe that's all that was wrong with Glenn Close. She was having a hotflash.