Why is this still a surprise?

Wake up in the morning and find Aunt Flo has come to town, and smack your head---oh, that's why I've been feeling down the last few days.

I hate when men blame things on women being on the rag, and I hate when women use it as an excuse, but there's a glimmer of truth in the stereotype.

For me, the difference is subtle. Whatever is bothering me to begin with starts to seem overwhelming and perhaps just slightly tragic. I'm still capable of being happy or having a good time or noticing things that please me. It's just that the balance shifts a bit toward the negative. Also, I a hard time resisting the urge to eat ice cream.