It's That Time of Year

Oh, no, not back to school or, heaven forfend, the holidays. No, when you're my age, "that time of the year" means your period.

It hasn't been a year since my last one, it just feels like it. It's been about three months. The first month, I forgot about it. Midway through the second month, I got nervous and took a pg test (negative). And then I promptly forgot it again until this morning.

It explains why I've been feeling out of sorts the last few days, complete with PVCs. Those things had nearly disappeared, and it was disconcerting to have them back. And I gained a bunch of weight in the last two weeks that was driving me crazy, what with the walking I've been doing.

This morning I asked John, "So if women get to be cranky one week out of four when we're having a period every monthh, does this mean I get to be cranky three months out of twelve when I'm having one once a year?"

He said no.

Phooey.