Quit Playing Games

Dear AF,

I don't love you. I don't even like you. In fact, Aunt Flo, I'm sorry we're related. Ever since you started coming to visit me when I was in middle school, I've hated your guts. You're smelly and messy and have a complete lack of timing and finesse.

But all that...I could tolerate. It's this stupid game playing that I can't take. You know, for like ten years, I took medicine to make sure your monthly appearance in my world was purely symbolic. And then, after that, we used caution to make sure that we didn't interrupt your flow. But ever since we decided that we wanted to banish you for at least 9 months - if not longer - you've been a downright rude visitor, time and time again.

What's with this nonsense of coming around to spot for a bit...and then going away? What's with your interference with my temperatures - make them go up instead of down, and so playing with my hope and my heart to make me think that something is going to happen, when it's clearly not? And what's with these varying cycle lengths and varying flows? You used to be so consistent. What's your issue?

Aunt Flo, I think we need to come to an understanding. You need an extended vacation...and so do I. How 'bout we compromise, here, and I send you packing to someplace nice and warm and beach-y for a year or so, and when you come back, maybe I'll actually welcome you. And in the meantime, I'll go on ahead and have myself a little one, who, if it is a girl, will learn all about dealing with your annoying visits soon enough.

Do we have a deal? At the very least, if you're going to visit this month, just get here and get gone so I can make another try at sending you packing next month.

Hugs,

~FM~

P.S. Red is SO not your color.