There are a lot of things I enjoy late: Sleeping in late, being fashionably late, late for work (well sometimes).
However, there is one thing I hate to be late for -- at least at this time in my life -- and that's the proverbial aunt Flo. As dreadful as a visit from her may be, she is a welcoming reminder that my choice for birth control is fucking working. Sure she brings cramps and the occasional bitchiness, but she only stays a few days, unleashes her wrath for my not giving her any nieces and nephews to babysit, and departs, threatening to stay on my ass for at least another thirty years. Flo was expected to visit around Monday, but it's now Wednesday and she has yet to show her pretty little red-head. She's rarely late. I can't help but wonder -- IF SHE WILL EVER SHOW!
Okay, the above paragraph was cute and metaphorical, but trust me, I am not taking this thing too lightly. I have to be cute right now in order to take the seriousness out of the situation; for my sanity. I have to be lighthearted; otherwise, I will have a breakdown right here at work.
I've been heading to the bathroom on the hour, checking to see if Flo is ringing the bell, but she's not. People are probably beginning to think I have bulimia or something. I don't care, I'm a wreck.
And Steven is still on vacation, not that I would share this surely terrifying news with him, but I just want to take out my frustrations on the possible source of Flo's disappearance. Remember when he was holding your hands behind your back and doing you? Yes. Well, remember you wondered why his penis felt different, better? Yes. Maybe he took the condom off. Oh God! You can get pregnant from pre-cum, you know? Shut the fuck up!
I've been experiencing these thoughts for the last two days. They don't help.
So after work today, a journey to Walgreens will be embarked upon. And for the second time in my life, I will wait for a minus or a plus. I know it's early, but better to be early than too late.