Periods

Ok, a long time ago in Junior High my friend Shannon and I used to wish we could just sit on toilets, side by side, with a big pile of magazines, and have our period just be horrible for one, long day.

Then it would be over.

No week-long agony that even as a grown up sends me into freakish paranoia concerning the back of my pants. Not that I wear a lot of white pants, but just the idea that at any moment I will leak right through and not have my green with navy blue whales raincoat to tie around my waist like in 8th grade. You would think that as a grown woman I would have this period thing mastered. Oh, but my body fucks with me. My entire cycle is consistently unpredictable. Just last month I needed the "super plus" on the 3rd day, this month, the "teen slim" works fine on day number three. Good thing they finally invented that multi-pack with many different sizes; however, I need at least four packs at all times under the sink thanks to period unpredictability.

By the way, I call it Aunt Martha. I understand the Aunt Flo reference, but my friend Shannon and I called it Aunt Martha and that is how it is. She swooshes in at least a week in advance with the bulky, I'm really pissed at just about everything feeling; then, just when you understand why that Air Supply song has touched your heart so... she doesn't arrive. Fine! I'll let my guard down. I'm still hesitant in the sex department (I try to avoid those types of surprises "down there") but I no longer require my multi-pack to be within arm's length. Of course, that's when she comes! The slow gush like lava flowing from a slow-motion volcano onto my granny panties (thank god).

Long ago are the days when I pray, pray, prayed for Aunt Martha to come so as not to mean pregnancy. No longer do I stand in front of the mirror directly after having sex, thinking I am already showing. And there is no need for the rushed trip to Wal Greens for the double pack EPT. I'm doing it with a vasectomy boy.
This challenge removed, it leaves the Aunt Martha experience just plain useless. If it didn't involve surgery or questionable hormones I'd just end it right now.

If only that toilet day could be figured out. Just like in history when all the women went to the red tent- all my friends could do that dorm-living calculating thing and have our periods for one full day together, say like in a room with plenty of salty and sweet snacks, Cosmo, John Hughes movies... and of course the multi-pack within arm's reach.