It turns out you CAN shame your uterus!

Remember when I sort of went on a rant about the betrayal of a certain body part? No? OK, go read this. I'll wait.

Back? Alrighty, I hope you're good a math. Subtract March 12th from January 30th. (What? English majors have mad math skills too, geez.)Do you know what you get? Forty two days! As in six weeks!

That's right, Aunt Flo packed her bags and left. And didn't come back for SIX WEEKS! And she's the kind of bitch who doesn't take a talking to scolding rebuke slap on the wrist lightly. In fact it's conceivable she's a malicious bitch who holds a grudge. So when she went MIA I figured she was out with my uterus plotting revenge.

She did return, (is menopause EVER going to get here?) but shadow of her former self. Meek. Obliging. Respectful. Hurricane Flo has been downgraded to an April Shower.

So, if you'd like me to write to a body part anyone on your behalf, let me know. Evidently when it comes to delivering a threat giving a good dressing down I'm aces.