(Warning to the men: “female issues” ahead)
After several days of dribbling and sputtering, my period has finally opened up the faucet. Today I’ve had the whole gamut of fun: cramping, bloating, gushing, digestive upset, clots the size of my thumb. I’m going through maxipads like crazy. Every time I stand, sit, bend over, clear my throat… I drench another one.
I’m not a big fan of getting older, but I’ll be real glad when I don’t have a period any more.
That’s my boy.
He’s got me running errands today; he’s preparing for a mission trip with his church group, and I’m the gopher—my job is to find work gloves, track down the hammer, run out and buy batteries, do last-minute laundry, and so forth. Tomorrow I’ll be getting up at the crack of dawn to chauffeur him to the church to meet the bus, and then I won’t see him again for a week.
They had their graduation ceremony in Raleigh’s new convention center. They kept us on a pretty tight schedule, as there was another graduation before us and a third after us. And all on a weekday, so there was also the normal downtown workday traffic to contend with. Somehow mild chaos just seems an appropriate part of the whole ritual.
The seniors celebrated by dressing up the statue of Sir Walter Raleigh in a pink tutu. I think it suits him, don’t you?
Duchess is much less jumpy, and is settling in to her little routine. First thing in the morning I’m greeted by her squeaky little mew, as I shuffle down the hall to get her breakfast. I have to shuffle, because she weaves in and out of my path and I don’t want to kick her. On weekends when we’re a bit late getting up, she gets a little insistent. She doesn’t want breakfast—she wants me to sit on the couch and pet her.
She’s also making herself useful; Duchess is on pest control duty. The rainy weather has been driving all the creepy-crawlies indoors, and once or twice a week I’ll find a dead cockroach in the bathtub or in front of the washing machine. Duchess dispatches them during the night and leaves their little corpses for disposal. She also takes care of any moths that slip in through the door with us.
She frequently chases her tail, too, but every time she catches it something gooses her and makes her jump and lose it.