The other night I went to bed achy, wondering whether I was showing early signs of pork flu or just the spring bug that has been going around. I dreamt I was pregnant and going into labor. I woke up in the middle of the night sad that it was a dream and I wasn't having another baby. I woke up in the morning and . . . guess what? My body seems to have turned back the chemical clock and returned me to where I should be. It's not like nothing ever happened. You can't look at my breasts without noticing the seven inch scar and thinking "one of these things is not like the other." But it's a piece of putting me back together.
So I went to the drug store between my office and gym yesterday to reinvest in some fem-hi. Do you know they moved that section from where it was five years ago?? It took me ten minutes of checking every aisle before I found it. And when I did . . . WTF? Pearls???
I like pearls as much as the next person, but . . . down there?? On further investigation I learned that these are the plastic-applicator models. Plastic??? Haven't we learned that plastic is bad for the environment??? What's wrong with the cardboard applicators I used five years ago? I thought we had become smarter in the past five years in terms of environmental care, not more ignorant. It took me several minutes of searching the shelf to find the cardboard ones, of which they still had a few boxes. But if the stocking of this store is any indication of consumer trends, they'd better start digging the land fill pits deeper and wider.
But overall, I'm happy about all this. Now when friends complain about getting their period instead of thinking they have no idea how fortunate they really are, I can maybe say "Yeah, me too—isn't that great??" Not that I'm enjoying the overlap of hot flashes and cramps, but I'm not complaining either.