It isn't a good idea to call tech support for your daughter's computer
when you have PMS that is making you want to light other humans on fire and then roast marshmallows over their crackling flesh.
I do have to say, however, that I maintained a nearly pleasant demeanor the entire time I was on the phone, even though I wanted to chuck the damned computer out the window and then drive my car over it. Repeatedly.
I don't feel even slightly enlightened today.