Way back in the day, this woman named Eve ate an apple she shouldn’t have. She screwed us all over and now we all have monthly cycles. Periods. The rag. The worst thing ever. Whatever.
And we all get it (for the sake of argument, I don’t mean to start any debate about those who aren’t fertile, that is SO not my blog). Every month, give or take, we have to deal with it. It’s part of life. And it comes with a lot of downsides. I can’t think of any upsides to it, in fact. Nothing positive comes to mind.
We all deal with it. It sucks. We move on.
Except for that small portion of women who insist on sharing with other women exactly where they are in their ‘beautiful, natural menstrual cycle’. They will inform you of the daily position of their eggs, the activities of their uterus, the fact that they are just about to start on their rag, blah blah blah. They will inform you as to the level of bloat they are currently experiencing. Their ratio of cravings, in terms of salty and sweet. They will complain about how cranky they are, how none of their clothes fit, their back hurts, blah blah blah. They’ll come up to you and ask for a ‘product’ then loudly whisper that ‘they’re on their period’. No shit, really? I thought you just really liked collecting linty tampons from the bottom of my purse. You idiot.
What IS it with these women?
“Oh my god, I SO need chocolate…….(in a stage whisper), I’m sooooo PMSing” Um, wtf. I don’t care. Keep your menses to yourself. I don’t need to know the schedule of your innards, thanks though.
How are you supposed to react? They seem to think that this allows them instant bonding privileges with you, seeing as you both go through the same thing. Yeah…..alright. So I should bond with everyone who has feet too? Am I supposed to jump up and down and congratulate them on not getting themselves knocked up this month? Or start a parade dedicated to their wasted fertility? I DON’T UNDERSTAND.
If you really want me to be aware of when you’ll be PMSing, then actually on the rag, then in the clear, please just give me a damn calendar. I can throw it away and we’ll never have to speak of it again.
And dudes, when I wrote ‘please just give me a damn calendar’, I had actually written bloody instead of damn. Ha. Bad pun. Glad I caught that one, that would have been an editing fail.
What was I saying? Oh yeah. Leave me out of your uterus’ schedule. I don’t need to know about it. Just cuz we both have one, doesn’t mean we’re friends. Thanks. Bye.