Dearest Aunt Flow,
I think it's about time we have a little chat. See this body? (points at self) This is my body. MY body. It has been 30 years, this year, that you entered my life. For all these years, I have sat back and done nothing while you did whatever you wanted with this body. If you were late, fine, I dealt with it. Same if you were early. I have put up with your aches, cramps, chills, bloating, hot flashes, and mood swings. I even kept my mouth shut when you made my boobs hurt these last few years and when you decided every month that my uterus would feel like someone was using it for a inflatable bounce house. Well, all I have is this...
Could you please just go away? Do me a HUGE favor and get hit by a bus? Fall off the face of the earth and die? Do something other than harass me every three weeks? I'm tired of just bending over and taking it up the yoohoo. I've been silent all these years. Haven't I paid enough? It's hot, i'm cranky and would rather be swimming than sitting here with you tangling up my insides like you own me. And by the way, I'm going to be 40 this year, how many good years of sex do you think I have left in me before I can't do it anymore? (is this reaching?)
Anyways, if you could kindly just stop now, I wouldn't complain one bit. Although I'm sure I would miss you, I can guarantee it wouldn't be anytime soon.
Not so Happy,
Heather
PS - Did I mention...I hate you? Just sayin!
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