I'm wondering, God, about my period. I haven't had it in so long - 17 months now - and, well, I'm a little scared for its arrival. What if I'm wearing white jeans when I get it? What if all the boys at school find out and laugh at me? What if I don't have tampons and I'm forced to wear a pad? I think I will die if I have to wear pads. Especially if I have to wear them with my white jeans while the boys at school laugh at me.
You see, God, it's helpful for a girl to be able to plan for these things and not be caught off guard. At the very least, it would be nice to know what's going on so that if and when I'm deep in the throes of PMS, I'll know what's what rather than questioning if I'm having a psychotic break.
There's another thing. Without a period, I don't know if I'm, how would you say it, God? With child. That's it. How can I know that I'm not with child? Last night I felt dizzy and then this morning I was so exhausted that I had to have Husband watch the baby while I slept for 30 minutes. When I woke up from my (not refreshing at all) 30 minute slumber, I was suddenly very, very fearful about the state of my womb, so I took one of these and got this answer.
Thank God (Thank you?) for those three little letters before the second word. But do you see what I'm getting at? A period would be very useful in keeping track of the whole with child/without child status. So here is what I need to know: when will I resume menstrooooation?
That's it for today, God. Except, wait, I got a few more questions: Will stuffing my bra with cotton balls be a good move or bad move for that party on Friday? Should I or should I not go to temple with Grandma in New York this weekend? Why is Nancy such a well-developed brat? She doesn't deserve boobs. And, finally, I really, really want to make out with Philip Leroy. Can you make that happen? I don't think Husband would mind.
That's all, God.