Surviving the Days ... and the Weeks and the Torment.


Words I write don't necessarily make sense to you... I don't expect them to, maybe I don't even want them to... The thoughts are written fragmented and incomplete! I do not write for any form of external validation.. What you read may not have the same meaning as what I write... But do not underestimate the personal significance of my words! An essential part of who I am is only evident in my writing... It had been locked away after it was used against me... Everything you need, in order to hurt me, is right here!

Monday, March 06, 2006

So Pointless..

[B]Warning:[/B] This entry may contain a little too much information. Too bad.

I was going to blog yesterday about the evils of a certain combination, it wasn't the bacardi + coke combination of the night before although that had something to do with it. No, the combination I was going to complain about was that of a hangover and Day 1. At this point some of you may be wondering "Day 1 of what?", well chances are if you're wondering that you're male, no I'm not sexist it's just part of being female. You got it, I'm talking Day 1 of our lovely monthly cycle. As if a hangover wasn't bad enough, especially when it is so rare that I suffer from them, but I had the good fortune of getting the pains and general feeling of yuckiness that goes with Day 1 as well.

I've never really spoken of this before (well not here anyway) but I actually resent the fact that I even get my period. Obviously I get that the whole idea of menstruation is all part of the reproduction thing. But there should be something in your body that registers the fact that you haven't had sex in a very long time and therefore cleaning out the baby factory is a little pointless every month!

My bad luck continued today, Day 2. I'm feeling gross and bloated and generally yucky again (my verbal skills go downhill this time of month too apparently). I have to take Little Boy to his swimming class this afternoon after school. I couldn't give a rats arse how bad I look. I can't be bothered getting out of my rather comfy trackies, so I don't. Hell it's five minutes on the bus each way and half hour sitting at the Rec. centre, what do I care. So I'm feeling shitty and looking just as bad, we're also running late. We just make it to the bus, I get on pay and sit down, five minutes later I'm ready to get off and I still don't give a shit. Until....

[B]Bus driver:[/B] Can I ask you a question?

[B]Me:[/B] Uhh sure..

[B]Bus driver:[/B] is your son's father named M?

[B]Me:[/B] Uhh yeah [I](now actually paying attention to the man I'm looking at with only a vague sense of having seen him before)[/I]

[B]Bus driver: [/B]Hello Ted [I](smiling)[/I]

[B]Me:[/B] Oh shit.. [I](it takes me a few seconds but I've put the face to one of two names, I take a guess)[/I] hello B

[B]Bus driver:[/B] oh you do remember me...

Ok first thing, NO I never slept with him! But we were part of the same circle of friends about 9yrs ago. I really don't give a shit what he thinks of me, BUT that doesn't mean I want to be looking my absolute worst when I run into him!!

I really would much prefer having a penis than having to bleed every month!

[I]Now, I apologise for this entire post, sort of :-P[/I]

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