A Work In Progress

Chapter Sixteen: A Cycle

I was still finding myself falling into some old habits. The worst was going to pee. I still found myself more often than not lifting the seat to go but it was becoming less of a problem with the second time I peed on myself. I was also finding myself far more self-conscious about the noises involved in defecating. It was hard to explain because before it was just a function and men did not discuss noises from the bathroom, but now I wanted to hide the noises. I also found myself more inclined to close the bathroom door even alone in my apartment.

I had felt kind of crappy beyond getting the article about Kay’s suicide. Not that this did not feel like a blow to getting back to normal, but the other was like a dull ache in my lower abdomen. I woke on Tuesday morning, and headed into start a morning ritual of taking care of business and then a shower. I walked on the bare, cold tile floors and flicked on the light. As I passed by the mirror, I glanced into it and gasped. I looked like a murder victim. What had been my favorite powder blue oxford was covered in blood at the bottom hem. I pulled up the hem and my thighs were coated with blood as well. “What the hell?” I asked of my reflection. It took me far too long to realize, I was having my period. Once I did realize that little fact, I could only say, “Shit.” I filled one sink with cold water and set the shirt in for it to soak. I peed and got in the shower to clean myself up. The whole time I was wondering what in the hell I was going to do about this. I mean I had planned for a lot over the weekend, but this was one thing that had never occurred to me. I had no one to go to about what to use or how to buy it or anything. I kept wondering how things could get worse.

I called to find a drug store that would make a delivery, and I found one on the third call. I asked to get me one box of just about everything they had. I put on a clean shirt and went through the rest of my new morning ritual, drying my hair and styling it up again, I dusted on some makeup and went through the pain of eyeliner again, I was getting better at it but it was still very hard. I tried again to get on mascara without glopping it on. The first attempt I had made was horrible on Monday. I did not have to make three tries at it today. As I was putting on a light colored lipstick, something else that I was being forced to get used to, the doorbell rang. I went to it and Ralph was there with several bags and a credit card receipt for me to sign. I added a tip and signed it and took the bags. I had discovered the day before that while thong underwear might look good, it was a challenge to get used to having a wedgie all the time, and now I found they were not conducive to a sanitary napkin to attach on. I was thereby forced to use a tampon. The insertion was a bit different feeling and I followed the instructions on the box rather than leap off the cliff with something inside me. I tucked several more into my purse and finished dressing.

I should have worried about what Ralph or the delivery guy must have thought of me, but at the moment I was running late for work and could only think about getting out the door. Needless to say, I found my mood very dour. Thank God Ralph was on the ball and had a taxi waiting for me. I checked my voice mail as the taxi hurried along the city streets, vaguely aware the driver was looking a lot in his rear-view mirror but did not seem to be looking at the traffic behind him. I was wearing a sweater and a bra that pushed up my breasts a bit and I could only guess what he was looking at, and I was fairly sure I would be right. I would have made a comment, but I had three messages from Phillip. Each one seemed to get angrier. He was acting as if I had hung him out for this closing without what he needed. I could not understand what he was in such a panic about, because had I made it any easier on him, I would have stapled the files to his forehead. I tried calling his office but there was no answer.