Open Letter to My Menstrual Cycle

Dear Betty,

I don't mind your habit of coming around in oddly numbered days, 25 or 27 or 29, without warning.  I'm prepared for that.  I'm pretty much resigned to the way you trample all over my boobs in steel-toed work boots.  After 25 years, I don't even mind the way you wreck the place every month.  I'm used to being on clean-up duty.

But bitch, let me tell you right now, there's one thing I won't put up with.  That's you driving around my uterus for four days straight making threatening remarks, running over my trash cans, knocking down my mailbox, and leaving tire tracks on my lawn. 

If you're gonna come visit, you just need to knock the door down, flop on my sofa and proceed to drink two six-packs of hate and cause a big mess.  Don't be threatening unless you plan to carry through with it.  Don't be calling me at three in the morning and saying, "Baby, I'm on my way," when you don't plan on showing up.  That shit pisses me off.  And there are ways to fix that.  Trust me, you twat, there are ways to deal with your indecision and bad behavior. 

So you need to commit to this fucked up dysfunctional relationship or get the hell away from me.  Are we clear?

Fuck you,
~Redzilla