Wednesday, May 10, 2006

My Ovaries, My Enemy

Author's Note: If you're a man, I suggest skipping this one.

I've never been one of THOSE girls. You know the type I'm talking about. The girls with the miserable PMS who bitch and moan are basically rendered incapacitated for an entire week each month because they got their period. I've been, well, at least up until recently, blessed with relatively easy visits from Auntie Flo.

As with everything else, though, getting older changes things a bit. Gone are the good old days. I've spent the better part of last night and today doubled-over with painful cramps, I feel fat and bloated, and I've nearly bitten the head off of every human being who has come within five feet of me. I even chastised the BF last night during an IM conversation for - are you ready for this - responding to something I'd written with a smiley-face emoticon.

I can't handle this much longer. Every month is worse than the one before. I swear to God, if it wasn't for the fact that I want children some day, I'd run to the nearest OB/GYN and have them rip out my ovaries today. Sure, I'd probably grow a mustache and become a baritone, but goddamnit, it would be worth it. You'd still love me with chest hair, wouldn't you honey?

Why can't modern scientists come up with something better than Premsyn PMS or Pamprin to combat this nasty bitch? They've got medications to combat everything from male pattern baldness to irritable bowel syndrome. Why not the menstrual cycle?

I blame it on female scientists. They know that if they create a drug that controls the ugly mood swings, the cramps and the bloating, women everywhere will never again be able to use the "I've got my period" defense. Girls will be expected to jump in the pool in gym class, women will have to be more productive at work, and never again will it be used as an excuse for getting out of having sex. The world would be in chaos!

Well, I call bullshit on that, my friends. I, for one, would gladly give up the right to use the "I've got my period" excuse if it meant I could get in to my skinny jeans every day of the month. Who's with me on this one, ladies? I'll be laying here on the couch in my fat pants, with a heating pad on my belly, awaiting your response.


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