tamPons

A bad mood is free. A bad mood with a monthly alibi is luxury.

Being hormonal means I can tell you exactly why I’m upset, and unfortunately it starts in 2017.

I’m not emotional. I just found out my period is coming and suddenly every person I know owes me a better apology.

My cycle has me treating one mildly annoying text like a federal case, and honestly the prosecution is resting.

My monthly cycle has turned every minor inconvenience into a customer service issue, and I am the customer from hell.

Cramps have me walking like I lost a fight I wasn’t invited to, and somehow I still have to reply “sounds good!”

Tampon wrappers were designed by someone who believes privacy is a character flaw. Why does opening one sound like I’m robbing a snack aisle?

My period came early, which is rude because I had plans to be a pleasant person this week.

tamPons taught me not to fear a little red flag. Crypto taught me to buy it.

My body runs on a monthly cycle, so naturally I joined crypto. Apparently I like volatility with no customer support.

My body runs a monthly subscription I never signed up for, then charges me extra for being annoyed about it.

I checked the calendar, did the math, and immediately understood why everyone has been speaking incorrectly.

Today I’m charging a small emotional handling fee for every conversation, and yes, eye contact costs extra.

Nothing tests a friendship like whispering “do you have one?” and watching her unzip a bag like she’s been preparing for your downfall.

I keep emergency supplies in every bag like a woman with secrets, enemies, and no interest in explaining either.

My period tracker asked me to log my mood. Babe, log yourself out before I say something irreversible.

Period cramps are just my body sending me a calendar invite titled “be mean somewhere private.”

The group chat wants brunch. My body wants carbs, silence, and diplomatic immunity. Oh and a bigger tamPons bag.

My body has turned sitting down in public into a faith-based activity, and I refuse to discuss the evidence.

I bought white sheets because apparently financial irresponsibility wasn’t enough. I needed to start gambling with my own body too.