23 Days Later…

WARNING: CYCLICAL FEMININE CONTENT

Me in the bathroom, minding my own business, just peeing… I thought.  Until I go to wipe and…

“WHAT THE?!?  It can’t have been 23 days!  I just had it!!”

I rush to the calendar in the kitchen and count from my last Red Sharpie-circled days.  I am right on schedule.  23 days.  CRAP.  I had not a clue this was coming.  I am that busy.  You know how gymnasts and other elite female athletes push their bodies so hard that they don’t even get periods?  Basically, they are TOO BUSY TO BLEED.  Okay, it might have something to do with their lean muscle mass to body fat ratio but I’m going with the TOO BUSY TO BLEED and wondering why that hasn’t happened to me.   Although now, knowing that I was PMSing last week, does explain my several days of wanting choke people – some of whom were small children.

I forget things when I’m busy.  Things in addition to when the lining of my uterus tries to expel itself from my nether regions. I forget to take medicines, go to appointments, collect the garbage/recycling.   I have to have a good 5 -7 reminders on my email calendar.  3 days before, 2 days before, 1 day before, 10 hours before, 6 hours before, 2 hours before.   If I can walk to the appointment/meeting, maybe even 15 minutes before.  Combine regular peri-menopause with my period, and any sort of mental acuity becomes a dumb-ass, muscle car driver being hit by a CN Cargo Train at an un-barriered train crosssing.  Which, coincidentally, is how my lady bits feel right now.

I have forgotten to take my morning pill cocktail twice this week. TWICE.   Some of these pills are pills that ensure that my cycle lasts 23 days instead of 15 days – fingers crossed that that doesn’t come back to bite me.