"Guys are assholes. They usually pull something." She sounds resigned, not genuinely angry or even upset about that -- in her world, that's just one of those facts of life. Humans hate everything different. Grass is usually green. Guys will do whatever they think they can get away with.

Glancing around her apartment -- she really should clean it up, maybe next time she's up, she'll get around to picking up instead of pacing and manically calling everyone on her contact list -- she shrugs. "It's better than it was last week. It'll be better next week." Until she hits normal again.