(Those of you that are squeamish and/or men might want to skip this post. Seriously.)
Because I got my fucking period. And no - I am not one to whine incessantly. I tend to have short - albeit rather rough periods. Three days, done. Laid up on day one, then I get better. So, Tuesday it shows up, I think 'fine, no swinging today, I should be fine for yoga tomorrow night.' Um. Or not. Let me put it this way, folks, without being too graphic. As of this morning, I have gone through THREE changes of clothes. And we're not talking for the sake of fashion. I had a moment of sprinting in the house after errands, screaming at Addie to 'GET A MOVE ON, MISSY!' because oh dear god, it was about to get scary. And it did.
So, here I am, at the mercy of the flow. I'm hoping I'm riding the last of the bloody tidal wave and tomorrow will be more normal.
Okay, laundry time now.