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Ok! Get ready for my last rant of the year. It may be TMI for some, and if it is, I dont apologize, because this is really an issue and I need to sound off.

Firstoff, I realize its been almost a year since my last blog post (I can’t even begin to explain why at this moment).
In what is my first blog post in nearly a year, not to blog about fashion,thrifting, shopping or anything like that. What brings me here is something that isn’t new under the sun, something that has been around since women have been women, and something that has consumed my life since the age of 14. Oh yes reader, women in particular, this “thing” I speak of, that has brought me back to my blog to sound off after nearly a year is my monthly cycle.

Since it’s very existence in my life this thing has literally been a pain to me in more ways than one. From the fevers,to the vomiting, to the back pain, to the earth shattering cramps,and not being able to function, this thing has always shown up and showed out. I’ve had jobs jeopardized, I’ve had very important life events that I’ve had to miss all because of this thing. Nevermind the painkillers, which by the way don’t work for me anyhow. Nevermind the home remedies, the herbal teas, the birth control pills, the heating pads, nevermind it all as none of this has truly helped me in this quest to make this monthly painfest end. The only comfort I feel is when the cycle ends. Ain’t that a blip? I can literally feel my insides doing a violent dance for seven whole days. Boi, that’s a helluva dance! I can truly feel every fiber of ovulation as well as my eggs dropping into position I want to scream at this thing, “Sucker, I have 4 kids you can keep your aches, your eggs, and your ovulation because I don’t need you anymore. Cycle, monthly, mensuration, mother nature, unwanted guest, I don’t need you anymore—- go away. I have earned my stripes, I have slothed off the years and tears and shedding enough for 45 thousand lifetimes. AND today, I’m mad as hell. Its new years eve, and I always spend new years eve in church and this, is nothing new, it’s what I do every year. But as always you show up at the wrong time. And I will instead spend my New Years Eve shaking in pain, damn near overdosing on motrin, rocking back and forth, and moaning in agony over the first day of my cycle. You woke me up bright and early this morning, I mean you came in with a bang and already this pain is too much to bear. I’m so sick of you, and I don’t want you anymore. Your purpose has been served. If I had a dollar for every time you’ve done this to me, shown up and showed out, I’d be on the cover of Forbes magazine rich beyond belief. but you don’t give dollars, you only give excruciating pain, and make me weak until I’m dizzy from anemia, blood count always on the low. And even more, you make me mean! You have messed up Egyptian cotton sheets, and more panties than one can own in a lifetime. And the only option which really ain’t the option I want to rid myself of thee is a Hysterectomy? Chile, you are something else. In all the misery you’ve caused me, you are consistent, even I will give you that. First thing in the morning with this pain though, really? Oh well, all this ranting aint gonna change a damn thing. So, I guess I’ll stop whining now, good morning heartache, sit down”.

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