Sometimes I’m funny.
OK, yeah, dude should be on a watchlist, but on the bright side, I’m totally referring to my insides as “my satanic ram’s head” at least once a month from now on.
“Y’all, I can’t go out tonight — my satanic ram’s head is back on its bullshit.”
Text to friends, based entirely in fact and science:
“They put me on the pill and said I could start it whenever, so I did, but I think my body was already preparing its regular PMS festivities, and when I added bonus hormones I fucked up its groove, because now I hate goddamn everything except you guys and Egg McMuffins.”
A Facebook friend posted about how silly she was for being eager to get her period when she was around 11, and her male friend said, “Yeah, for men it’s shaving — when we were kids, we couldn’t wait to grow facial hair, but it’s such a hassle.”
Oh. Oh, honey…
Putting aside the non-visible symptoms of menstruation — bloating, cramps, irritability, etc…
What, pray, happens if you don’t shave for a week? You get fuzzier, no? Perhaps you get a little squirrely, maybe you need a trim?
But I’m gonna GUESS that if you just ignore that “hassle” for a week, and take no action whatsoever, you can probably still be seen in public.
Lemme just TRY to ignore my period for a week, to take no action, and go to work. Or on a date. Grocery shopping. The gym. Does that sound like a LITTLE more of a “hassle?”
Your wanton erections are probably a closer comparison. Or maybe if once a week your dick just leaked ejaculate for 5-10 days straight? Or, you know, if it just…bled?
Run along, sir. You’re needed at the Faulty Metaphor Factory.
Oh, cool, OK — mine are heavy, too, and it’s inconvenient and sometimes debilitating and they’re sending me for a just-in-case CANCER TEST, and all sorts of other awful health shit can cause it, but sure, yeah, let’s go with “bad hygiene.” 🖕🏼
Via Glamour: Woman Sues Former Employer for Firing Her Over a Heavy Period
So I ended up having an “endometrial biopsy” this morning. I’ll spare you the details, but my exact words during the procedure were, “Um, hey, so…this doesn’t HURT-hurt, but I would SUPER love it to be over soon.”
And then it HURT-hurt, just in a pressure-y, menstrual-cramp-y way, resulting in fun bonus bleeding, exhaustion, and quease.
Human bodies are so disgusting.
In happier news, I’ll get my period this weekend, but that’ll be the last one, because fuck you, Nature, I have a pill now. 🖕🏼
I need to start keeping better track of my menstrual cycle so I can at least see some reason in being a puffy, disgusting cheese monster.🧀👹🔪
It’s one of those menstruation days on which I’m so irrationally exhausted that I’ve become suspicious of the entire process, as if my body is somehow shedding things it shouldn’t, like…”No, no, we NEED that, what are you doing?!”
Before I left the house today I just threw a bunch of pills in my face and chased them with a bucket of coffee. Screw it, it’s bound to fix something.
Texting with friends…
Friend 1: “You know it was a productive therapy session when you immediately get cheese fries afterwards.”
Friend 2: “Nice. I’m going tonight as well.”
Me: “Ha, I’m going tomorrow.”
Friend 1: “Awwwww…we’re on the same therapy cycle.”
Friend 2: “That feels more important than syncing our periods.”