Dear Ms.Uterus,
Hi! It’s me, your host body! I’m just checking in with you
about a few things and, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but, what the
hell is wrong with you? What is up with the horrendous cramping this month? Can I
not have a decent night’s sleep, free from grinding, blinding, tooth-gnashing
pain?
What the hell, Uterus? Have I not been good to you? Do I not shine the
spotlight on you on an annual basis? And, ok, being swabbed with a giant Q-Tip
may not be your idea of heaven, but, honestly, do you really think that I enjoy
it? I do NOT! But, I do it! I do it for YOU! To ensure your health and
well-being. What. Is. With. The Hate?
Ok, sure, asking you to stretch to fifty times your regular size while
incubating a human was a lot to ask (um…twice), but, honestly, don’t you think
that Ms. Vagina had it far worse? And, do you hear her complaining? I didn’t
think so. And, look! The Twin Peaks didn’t exactly come out of that ordeal
unscathed, either, yet, they continue about their daily chores with nary a sigh. And, ok, so they are starting to fall down on the job a little, but; that is a problem for another day and we are talking about you right now.
So! Here’s the deal, I am willing to concede to one day of cramping each
month. In exchange, I will continue my annual pilgrimage to the lady doctor for
your checkup. I am confident that you will see reason and will, therefore, agree
to these terms. However, on the odd chance that you disagree; I will have no
choice but to serve you with a notice of eviction and, the next time you see the
Lady Doctor will be, well, the LAST time you see the Lady Doctor. I don’t want
to do it, really, I don’t but, I think you need to seriously assess the
motivation behind your campaign of torment against me.
Sincerely,
Chelle
aka: Your Host body.
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