Every month around that special time, I get...for want of a better word..."cranky." Cranky-slash-antisocial. Mostly I just draw into myself and ignore the world except for frequent trips to lash out at morons.
There is, however, a salvaged side to this burned toast. During this dangerous time period, my imagination skyrockets. Stories start spitting out of my eyeballs. Or, more accurately, old stories start getting newer furnishings, and new stories start to take shape.
Fabulous stuff. I'll write a snippet later.