It's just like riding that annoying, painful bike you thought you'd thrown away.

The following blog deals with a very personal matter in a very personal way.  (Yes, Todd, it's about feminine punctuation.)

If you don't want to know way too much about me...or if female problems make you feel icky, do not read further.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED...

I'm serious.  We're about to get graphic and female up in here.  If you're going to read this and then chase me down after church and tell me this week's blog grossed you out, then stop reading right now!

Let me be clear:  I'm not going to keep you wondering. I'm going to reveal it all!  STOP READING NOW IF  FEMALE ISSUES MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE.

The language, also, is going to get pretty bad.

Who's left?  Just us girls?  Us older, age appropriate to listen to a graphic rant about female stuff girls?

Good.

Ready?

WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL JUST HAPPENED?  I JUST GOT MY PERIOD.

I haven't had one since JUNE.  JUNE.  That's July, August, September and October, no female punctuation.  No cramping. No bloating. No leaks all over the sheets. No leaks all over  my clothes.  No worrying if I had protection in my purse, suitcase, whatever. NO WORRIES ABOUT ANY OF THAT NONSENSE AT ALL for four blissful months.

Unlike not getting your monthly punctuation when you're younger, or maybe waiting on that first punctuation after the baby is born, getting one after missing it due to menopause is just a gigantic slap in the face.  I was done. I was free. I was able to leave my house without wondering if I had stocked my purse properly.

All I had were hot flashes. And yes, they were horrible this summer, but guess what?  We're getting into winter. I was looking forward to those hot flashes. You know, save on the heating bill. But, a couple weeks ago, I noticed I wasn't getting those flashes as often.

Stupid me, I thought I'd just gone through the fastest menopause EVER.

BUT NOOOOOOOOOO.

I got up this morning, all crampy and grumpy and sick to my stomach and head achy and then boom, bam POW.  

Period.

So now, I'm taking a moment out of my novel writing month to share this with all of you because I'm so FREAKING MAD.  I have to do things I thought I was done doing.  I have to use things I thought I was done using.  I HAVE TO HAVE RESET THE MENOPAUSE CLOCK AND GO BACK TO START AGAIN.

Now, of course I haven't forgotten how to treat a period.  I haven't forgotten how to use the punctuation protection. I haven't forgotten to wear all dark colors.  (Like I had even gotten away from that yet. That'll teach me to ponder getting a pair of gray jeans.)

Getting a period after so many months is like riding a bike. An annoying bike that causes pain. A bike I honestly thought I'd gotten rid of for good.  But, apparently, unlike stuff you take to St.  Vincent de Paul, this bike is coming back to you until it's good and ready to be gone.

So reset the menopause clock.  I'm back in the land of the menstruating for at least one more cycle. And I'm not terribly happy about it.