Dear Menstrual Cycle,

You make me want to slip into a coma. On many levels.
Please stop being a tool so I can stop feeling like that horrible girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when she eats too many forbidden blueberries, turns purple, swells to the size of a small hot air balloon, and floats arbitrarily off into oblivion. However appealing oblivion may sound right now, I. Don't. Have. Time.
Thank you.
Love,
Chelsea