Something is wrong.  Strange things are starting to happen that I can’t explain.  They are happening to me.  It started slowly enough, without much warning or fanfare.  I barely noticed.  Then, yesterday, all hell broke loose. This is not for the weak or faint hearted.  I know what’s wrong with me.  I have Perry Mason Pause. 

Sure, laugh all you want.  For 36 years I have been one of the millions of women who has faithfully paid the mafia known as makers of Tampax to be able to swim, paddle a canoe, fly a kite, play tennis and ride a bicycle during that “period” of time where swollen breasts are a boy’s dream king and chocolate is queen.  Not one of those purchases was ever tax deductible.  The Tampax, not the entertainment or sports equipment.  I have maxed out on maxi pads. If the damn things have wings I wonder, why is it I could I never fly anywhere with them?  Truth in advertising, my ovaries.

Since the age of 14, like clockwork orange, my period offered hints of its arrival and taunted me with legs that felt like they were the size of elephants, cravings for spinach and chocolate (not together mind you, that would just be plain wrong) and the desire to reorganize my lipstick with incredible precision using the Dewey Decimal System.  What did all this get me?  A bloated belly, occasional cramps, a wardrobe in three sizes and a lot of hand washing of my unmentionables, that’s what.

But now it seems, my body the game has changed.  My period is nowhere to be found and even odder symptoms have taken a hold of me and made their presence known.  My mind wanted to do a number of things yesterday, but my body just said, “Fuck it Nah”.  I spent the afternoon in a catatonic state jonesing for my super plus fix but no blood was drawn.  I saw my future and it clearly said, “Change”.  So I did absolutely nothing. All day long.

By the evening, I had consumed six square meals and had thought about sex twice as many times.  A few hours later, a hovercraft of intense heat settled over my solar plexus as I tried to go to sleep.  It stayed there all night.  The backs of my knees and my neck suddenly required deodorant.  Not an ounce of A+ blood was dripping and yet I still had this urge to eat a desk, even if I wanted to organize what was inside of it first.  I almost felt a compulsion to walk into Walmart and buy myself a house dress, curlers and a butcher knife. That’s where Della Street comes in.  She always handled the evidence. 

My nerves are a little rattled.  Is it possible that hair and toenails can sweat?  My body temperature is about 87 degrees higher than it was on Friday and I’m thinking of buying blocks of dry ice to replace my mattress. Sleep escaped me completely last night.  I have a crazed look in my eye.  It’s pouring rain and I have already stuck my head in the freezer four times this morning and wasn’t even looking for something else to eat. 

Obama wasn’t lying when he said that change is coming.  I just didn’t expect that it would happen like this to me.

This is going to be fun.