Dear Mother Nature,
We need to talk. I understand you have a job to do and that your job description includes delivering a "gift" on a monthly basis but lately, you've been getting a little out of hand in the delivery department.
It's called a "MONTHLY" gift, not a "BI-WEEKLY" gift. What, you're having a promotion? Get Two "Gifts" for the price of one month? That's mighty generous of you but you shouldn't have. Seriously, you shouldn't have. Getting a second "gift" in the span of 2 weeks is not what I call, well, a "gift."
And what's the deal with deciding to add in a little something extra, like HOT FLASHES? Really? Hot flashes at the same time? What is this, one of those "But Wait! There's More!" promotions? It's bad enough with the cramps and bloating and headaches and boobs that suddenly weigh the equivalent of a 1959 Cadillac along with the sudden desire to eat a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough and the ability to turn into a rabid wolverine at the drop of a hat without adding in sudden spike of body temperatures while in the midst of a cramp attack. I mean c'mon! It's not like you're working for UPS and get paid by the package. And worse, this is a gift that can't really be returned and exchanged for something better because you never include a gift receipt the way Target does.
You know how in every office there is one person who annoys everyone else because she makes an ostentatious display of just how hard she's working and how efficient she is and goes around changing everything and not for the better so that nobody knows where anything is anymore and it just creates more unnecessary work for everyone else and she's only doing it to earn suck-up points with the boss and everyone wants to just shrink-wrap her to her rolling desk chair and push her out the door and into the parking lot that just happens to be on a hill?
Yeah. You're rapidly turning into THAT person. So unless you want to be shrink-wrapped to your chair and shoved down a hill, KNOCK IT OFF!
Sincerely,
Crabby McHotFlash
This is wonderfully written and exquisitely expressed......you are a genius.....sorry about the hot flashes.
ReplyDeleteSounds like somebody needs some buttercream frosting...
ReplyDeleteAw, thanks Lo (blushes modestly).
ReplyDeleteStella, it's not buttercream frosting I need, it's narcotics because my cramps are THAT BAD.
Poor precious baby - I so sympathise with you. While I no longer have Freddy Kreuger in my womb once a month I now suffer the occasional - right-in-the-middle-of-some-important-social-thing hot flash that leaves my longer than shoulder length hair dripping wet and my clothes sticking to me. Oh yes, the joys of aging. Crabby? Oh no - that never happens to me...I'm armed.
ReplyDeleteYou need to be like me. To borrow our friend Paula's fabulous words, I had my whore of a uterus taken out. And let me tell you, what a jig dancing slap clapping day that was!
ReplyDeleteOh and crap yes! Baton twirling counts for everything!