Sorry in Advance to Male Readers

Last summer, I started taking birth control pills. No, not for the common reason - those of you who've been reading for a while might recall that I've yet to take that particular plunge. I started taking it to alleviate the horrible, awful, unbelievably torturous, "Oh, for the love of God, make it STOP!" cramps I used to endure every month. After years of hearing, "Have you considered going on the pill?" from well-meaning friends, I finally went to the doctor and got a prescription. Mostly because one particular friend got with the tough love and informed me that I would make a doctor's appointment because there was absolutely no reason for me to endure a Spanish Inquisition dungeon o' pain in my uterus every month.

Since then, I have become convinced that the pill is a tiny drop of magic sprinkled with fairy dust and a little bit of cocaine, because it works WONDERS on my cramps. By which I mean, "What cramps?" Most months I can go completely sans Advil, and the cramps I do still have are pretty mild and, all in all, quite bearable. And then there are some other pleasant effects, like the fact that my cycle - which was always on the regular side - is now pretty much set to the hour. Every four weeks, Wednesday afternoon. I know you all wanted to know that.

However, today, I realized one of the negative aspects here. See, like I said, my cycle was always fairly regular. But honestly, I never paid too much attention to predicting and preparing for when I would start. Why? Because I had this terrific fanfare of gut-wrenching cramps to let me know, like a little caged monster in my tummy, clawing its way out from the inside, saying, "Hey, time for a tampon!" But now, even though I know, every fourth Wednesday afternoon, that I need to be ready, I sort of miss the heads-up warnings, because they made things a lot easier for little old forgetful me. Last night, as I lay in bed, I told myself, "Hey, Self, remember to pack supplies for tomorrow when you wake up!" And when I woke up? That's right, the thought never crossed my groggy mind.

So then, this afternoon, right before my supervisory meeting, I went to the bathroom and...

Oh. Right. Damn.

Fortunately, there were a lot of friendly females around, and one of them was willing to share her own supplies with me.

Maybe I need to write these things down or something. I'm sure no one would think it was odd to see me walking around with, "Hey, PERIOD is coming!" or "Remember TAMPONS!" scrawled on my hand. I'm already pretty odd, so they're probably used to it.

-----------------------------------

On an unrelated note, you guys crack me up. I really honestly didn't expect you guys to try for 30 right then. I just meant someday. And I still say that someday, when I get there, I'll totally do (and film! and post!) the happy dance for you all. Until then, can I just say I love knowing you all are there and care so much about seeing me make an ass of myself on YouTube. It warms my heart. Or gives me heartburn. It's hard to tell sometimes.