Sadism: A Day in the Life of Aunt Flo

I have a full understanding of the fact that having one’s period is part of a natural reproductive cycle, but considering the fact that my reproductive cycle seems to be anything BUT natural or reproductive, I like to imagine that having my period is less nature, and more wicked little sadistic fairy that looks like Helena Bonham Carter, sprinkling a healthy helping of misery over my life for a week each month. 

This is her story.

*****

5am.  Rise and shine!

It’s important to get an early start on a day like today.  The early bird catches the worm, and all that.

No worms today, though.  Today we need to be sure our girl here wakes up in a pool of her own blood.

Oh!  You know what?  Just for kicks, and because I haven’t had my coffee yet, let’s throw in some stabby, electric-shock-to-the-uterus, drop-to-your-knees, curl-up-in-the-fetal-position cramps.

And let’s start those… ohhh… about five minutes before her alarm goes off, because we all know how valuable those last few minutes of sleep can be…

Ahh, she’s up.  Time for a shower, dearie!  Yes, go ahead and get in… the hot water will help the cramps.

Perfect.  Now that she’s got a head full of shampoo, cue the diarrhea.

Today is going to be just lovely for us both, I can tell!

*****

You may think that I’m doing all of this to be a spiteful bitch, but you’re wrong.  I care.  A lot!  I even went as far as to show up three days early this month, because the last time I took a long weekend, she spent thirty bucks on pregnancy tests and then spiraled into a week-long funk when my inevitable visit finally did occur.

I do this because she needs to know that this is how nature works.  Sure, for her it seems like she’s being punished, and sure, sometimes I get a kick out of waving my wand and causing a tampon malfunction at a most inopportune time, but honestly, she needs me.

Because of me, at least she knows that she has a nice, healthy endometrial lining.

And that it sheds.  PROFUSELY.

You’re welcome, sweetie.

*****

Okay, back to today’s activities.  It looks like our girl has managed to make it through her shower, dressed herself, and has applied enough makeup to cover a little of her fatigue.

Oh, honey.  Khakis?  Well okay, but that’s going to be a problem later.

Alright, almost out the door.  Just one last sip of juice and.. what’s that?  Oh, she thinks I don’t get the irony of taking a prenatal vitamin on a day like today?  Well, I do, and she’s going to pay for that.

I’m going to wait until she gets to the busiest intersection in town before I make her puke up the entire contents of her stomach.

God, I love my job.

Oh!  I almost forgot!  I need to set the Bleed-Through Alarm!  I think once every hour and a half should do it, wouldn’t you say?

What, you think that’s too much?  Naaah.  Our girl here is tough.  And besides, she needs to learn not to wear khakis, like ever.

*****

Where were we…?  Oh right.  Our girl just tossed her cookies all over Cherry Street.  It looks like she’s now making a stop into a grocery store.  She probably ran out of feminine hygiene supplies.

I keep those companies in business, you know.

Hmm.  She’s got her shopping basket full of tampons, overnight maxi pads, heating patches, Pepto Bismol, and Midol.  She knows me so well!

Oh, she’s quick!  I need to move fast if I’m going to make sure that Peg, the kindly and sympathetic middle-aged cashier, is to go on break, and to be sure that whatever Frat-Boy-on-Summer-Vacation that’s working the morning shift is there to cash out her embarrassingly obvious purchase.

At least she didn’t buy a giant Hershey bar this time.

Oh wait… So predictable.  Tsk, tsk.

*****

Ah, so she’s made it to the office.  I don’t know why she thought heels were a good idea today, but I guess I’ll have to teach her yet another Menstrual Fashion Lesson.

Cue the lower back pain.

And random bouts of dizziness.

Right abouuuuuuut… Now.

Although Midol makes my job a little more difficult, here at her place of employment, she’s away from the true enemy – The Heating Pad.  A little pain reliever and anti-bloat medication won’t put a dent in my beautifully orchestrated Zombie Lurch each time she tries to run to the bathroom.

No, sir.  This ain’t my first rodeo.  I’m an artist!

*****

Well, we’ve made it to lunch. 

Ah, wise choice.  She’s skipping out on sustenance for fear of triggering any more of my creatively timed Digestive Pyrotechnics.  As if that would stop me…

I think it’s time to call in the reserves.  Afternoon Fatigue, this is a job for you.  I want her curled up in her office chair in absolute misery.  The bags under the eyes are a nice touch!

Ha, she thinks caffeine will make a difference!  How about fatigue plus jitters?  Let’s throw a little anxiety about those khakis in for kicks, too.

I told you she’d pay.

*****

Home at last.  See how she makes a play for her sweatpants and the dreaded Heating Pad?  That’s not going to work for me.  I’m not above shorting out that wretched device, but for today I’ll settle for inspiring her husband to bring home Chinese instead.  That should trigger some gag reflexes at least…

Oh, better yet, now they’re fighting!  Perfect!

*****

Ah yes, off to bed.  Early, too.  As if that will help her get any more rest tonight.  She’s barely eaten all day, and her life force has been quite literally draining out of her since she woke up.  Of course she’s feeling tired and fatigued, but the caffeine-mainlining act she’s been performing today will come back to bite her the second her head hits that pillow.

You should probably sleep on a towel, sweetie.  Trust me.

Only six more days of this, and then I’m on vacation till next month!

Sweet dreams, dear. 

I’ll be back before you know it…