Today a coworker asked why I was running around so stressed.
First of all, I have my period so it’s a miracle I am able to force a smile in a room full of people. Second of all, I just had the most blissed out Sunday of my life, painting and writing poems all day, living in a hazy state of mind infused by too much caffeine and staring at the full moon on the beach. Hands holding the weight of my head. Sandflies killing the romance. Lack of sleep. All the feels.
On top of that: blood everywhere. Feeling sick all night, feeling like a whale all day. Friends telling me I look tired. Strangers thinking I look pregnant, walking around holding my belly like that. I know I can’t deal with social situations that first day of my period so I usually choose to unplan everything and hibernate. Live inside and not exist to the outside world. That way, I can cause no harm by getting irritated by others.
Not today, today I had to work. In the biggest, busiest cafe. Bleeding away. The first customer I served was impatient about her ginger cake, so when I ran to the counter to bring her her ginger cake her eyebrows raised until they reached the ceiling because that is not what she ordered but whatever she’ll eat it anyway she says clearly unhappy even though she would never order that ginger cake I just gave her. This confused me and annoyed me but I stayed polite because this is my job and only the first customer of the day so how would I survive another eight hours of this if I couldn’t even handle a blazé lady being impatient about a ginger cake but not wanting to eat it. Hm.
“I ordered the ginger crunch, but whatever”, she continued, rolling eyes at her equally blazé friend, getting more annoyed, but so was I. We don’t have a ginger crunch. What the fuck is a ginger crunch. “G-I-N-G-E-R-C-R-U-N-C-H, oh maybe you don’t speak English ah yes that must be it, the language barrier.” Blazé friend nods and in my head I storm out, get in my car and drive away never to return.
I wrote a very fiery and passionate poem about the ginger crunch lady. Too bad my English isn’t good enough to read it to you but yes exactly you guessed it: this is the shit that brings out the worst in me on a regular Monday morning. Add to that: first day of my period. Too bad I already quit because I would do it again.
Thank goodness the postman always senses when I need his lovin the most because when I came home there were two parcels waiting for me: creations of dear friends worldwide. Bring on the happy tears and emergency box of Belgian chocolates, because my hormones need a break.