It seems as though a period of my life (pun intended) is ending, and another beginning. Peri-menopause is evidently what a 'woman my age' starts as her 'fertility cycle' winds down. (Yes, that's a lot of 'air quotes') But after five kids, my body is probably putting it's little foot down, stating no more. But, I whine at my body, our tubes were tied, crimped, burned, and cursed after the last baby. I don't need menopause to ensure no more babies, you freak!
That's too fucking bad! my body tells me back. Your child rearing days are nearly over! Bwaahaahaa! And I started my period. Again. Fucking asshole body! I really wish my mother had told me about some of the changes that occur, like unexpected periods and the psycho rages that seem to come over me when I PMS during this new phase of my life. I've always had a temper, but it seems in more recent months, my temperment has undergone a seriously drastic change.
I was out of feminine products, since this 'monthly visitor' has been anything but monthly, and I asked my honey to pick me up some at the store. Now, I've had mixed results with shopping-by-proxy for these particular products. After the fourth child, I had a miscarriage. Afterwards, I needed feminine products, and since I wasn't expecting to be needing them, I didn't have many on hand.
I asked him to pick me up some 'items' at the grocery store. I gave him brand, size, kind and color (because sizes-slash-types are color coded.) I asked for pink, which is petite, with wings. He comes back with orange, which is super-size-overnight, no wings. I was frustrated, and asked how he translated orange into pink, and he told me he asked the lady working there. And if I ever find this bitch, I'm going to teach her the difference between pink and orange. She probably went home that night, laughing about my dilemma, and how she screwed me from receiving discreet, petite products and replaced them with elephant-sized monstrosities. The bitch. I actually had him drive me back (since I couldn't yet drive) and I went in and bought my own. I looked for a woman fitting the description my honey had given me, but I didn't see her. Did she really exist? I'm not sure, because half the time I suspect he gets me the wrong item so that he wouldn't have to buy them again. Little does he know, I only ask him to do these things when I'm totally desperate, so fucking them up won't change my desperation, only my opinion on how competent he is. Asshat.
So this time, I told him green (the needs have changed, what can I say) And double-checked before he left: "You'll remember, green, right? I remember the pink turning into orange, you're not going to come back with purple, right? We're clear on the green?"
"Green, got it," he tells me.
After an hour and a half have passed, I text him. U OK? You've been gone awhile, finding everything ok?
He texts me back, Ran into a high school classmate be a little bit.
Ok, Buying pads, you run into a school friend. New odd story. I think he's used his luck quota when he found me.
Yep, got some use out of the heavy flow bit to cover the mortal embarassment.
Did I mention F U? Lolz
And I wait some more. Two and a half hours from the time he left, he returns with pink. Jesus Christ on a cracker, WTF? "Pink? I kind of thought I was clear on the green!" God fucking dammit, is he color blind? Wouldn't I have noticed this before now? Well, fuck, pink, petite with wings. Is this a joke? This is what I asked him for three years ago. Now I ask, is there a part of a man's brain that requires him to fuck something up on purpose so he doesn't have to do it again? Well, that just ain't happening, my friend. I train barely pubescent teens to follow our policies, and the solution when they fuck up is to make them do it again and again until they get it right. He tells me some story about how all of the packages are green, and I explained to him, the packages inside, the ones you can see inside the packages, need to be green, not the outside package!
Oh it's on like Donkey Kong, babe. And I'm getting you a color wheel too!
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