The way I figure it, today I began my 350th period. I figure it this way--I started at age 10 (yes, young), which means I've been having my period for 30 years. At 12 months in a year, that's 360. Take away the 9 months of pregnancy and 1 month it stayed away after, and that brings me to my 350 milestone.
Why a milestone? Because it means I've lived through 350 episodes of stinking PMS, that's why. And this month was a doosey. Ask Halley. She talked to me during my downward spiral last week. "I don't know, Halley. Nothing's really right. Everything's basically wrong. It's pretty much useless." Those kinds of things. Anyone familiar with them?
Swiftly, without giving my household or my mind time to switch gears, the old hormones had me rocketing into anger mode. "WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT??!" "JENNA STOP IT OR GET TO YOUR ROOM!" "DID I SAY I WAS ANGRY??" Holy cripe, I couldn't even stand myself. All the while, I wasn't sure what was up because I was a week late and vascilated between wondering, am I pregnant or did i mix up when I last had my little friend?
Let me tell you, the relief last night when old 350 hit was palpable. Children slept. The neighborhood dogs stopped baying. Birds began chirping from their quiet nests. The clouds parted to show a massive sky dotted with sparkling stars. Husbands around the world sighed. And me, I was suddenly Glenda, the good witch of the North again.
So for anyone wondering, 350's a charm.