I tend to be a little whiny and, yes, it's been suggested, even a touch moody. Oh, I know what you're thinking: You? But Lisa, you're so charming, so gosh darn delightful, so sparkly, so devil-may-care, so deliciously optimistic, so—what's the adjective—petite! It just seems impossible to believe that you don't actually rise and shine every morning ready to greet the world with that plucky, daisy-fresh, can-do attitude we've all come to know and worship. That is what you were thinking, right?

The truth is, I get irritable. This was brought to my attention last summer when Johannes—known in some circles as "the boyfriend"—likened me to "Caligula with an earache." Now, in my defense, we were on an airplane with our squirmy 3-year-old at the time. And, if memory serves, I had carefully dodged the drink cart and was making my way down the aisle with the aforementioned squirmy girl when we were trapped behind a guy who suddenly decided to store his trench coat in the overhead compartment as if he were part of the color guard folding the flag at Arlington National Cemetery.

In any case, I don't want to be the mean mommy. I don't want to be the PMS-riddled girlfriend. I don't want to be the bitch in the house. So as I see it, there are three ways to achieve a little karmic retooling: