You know, most of the time, I think being female is pretty neat. It got me out of ever having to mow the lawn as a teenager (unfair, yes, but true nonetheless) and I quite enjoy not having the standards of American masculinity held up to me like a tape measure. Being female was also quite helpful in wooing Alistair McCello. 
But there’s usually about one day a month when being female is the last thing I want to be, and that day is today. The first day of the happy-fun-week-o’-bleeding-crotch-times.
I got over the grossness of the blood a long time ago. It’s certainly inconvenient, but I still feel pretty cool about being able to bleed for a week and not die. (And for that matter, how is it that some women can get faint from seeing a teeny spot of blood on their finger, like from a papercut? You see a hundred times that much blood during every bathroom visit when on the rag!)
No no, it’s the PAIN I can’t stand. Sometimes the pain, for me, is indescribable. It’s one of those feelings where the pain itself really isn’t terrible, but the way I react to it… It tears down every wall of my self-control and soon I’m clutching my abdomen with tears streaming down my face, curled in the fetal position for an hour. Last month was awful–I had plans to give a (high school) friend of mine a tour of my college’s campus. I ended up curled in a ball in my dorm room, ordering one of my college friends, in between sobs, to show my high school friend around, because there is no way I would stand up, let alone walk anywhere.
Thankfully, this month hasn’t been that horrific. No tears yet, and the meds are working decently. But I’m definitely uncomfortable, squished, feeling dizzy and not able to walk around the house without my legs getting weak. Screw any plans of going out job-hunting, there’s no way I’m driving anywhere.
And I’m FUCKING SICK OF DOING THIS EVERY MONTH, being incapacitated for no better reason than that I’m female and of childbearing age. What/who the hell decided that monthly pain would be useful for women, anyway? I don’t see what evolutionary advantage that gives the human race. As if labor pains weren’t horrendous enough, why not make the child-bearers suffer through monthly teasers, as well? Why not routinely debilitate them, instead of developing a painless way to prepare the uterus for pregnancy? Makes perfect evolutionary sense!
Someone can just delete all this nonsense any time now. Ctrl + Alt + DELETE PAIN! That’s what I’d do. I’m sure there are plenty of women here who’d agree with me. We’re goddamn sick of feeling like someone’s shoved a knife in us, we’re sick of trying to make ourselves throw up because it hurts so damn bad, we’re sick of embarrassing ourselves in front of friends and family because we just can’t hold back the frustration and tears any longer, sick of being told to suck it up and deal with it… and we’re fucking SICK of having to repeat the whole damn experience every month! Some times are better than others, but there’s always that feeling of dread when we look at the calendar and think, “It’s starting soon… How bad is it gonna be this time?”
So I pit you, uteruses (uterii?) and your damn cramping. You all can go pitch yourselves into a dirty garbage bin alongside some half-eaten hot dogs, chewed up dog toys and used condoms infected with syphilis.
(Woo! That felt good. This whole “Pitting” thing is quite therapeutic. 
)
