Again, it's four am and I'm not quite sure why I'm awake.
Tuesday morning and the Memorial day weekend is over. Memorial day doesn't quite register as a holiday in my head, somehow. I know, thank you, veterans, for fighting. I love my freedom and love where I live. I have plenty of friends who aren't from this country and appreciate the fact that they are allowed to live here and thrive.


Let's see, maybe I can break it down for a recap.

Monday-Thurs, situation normal, nothing to report, really.
Friday, Bos on vacation, co-worker isn't at work by ten so I call him. "Howdy, John, blah, blah. Just checking to see if you are ok, call me, blah." I think that was the exact message. He called me back shortly to tell me he was not coming to work and would be in on Tuesday. Oh, I see. Everyone gets a four day weekend but me. Fine.
Turns out his living situation is pretty much hell and things came to a head. The police were involved, I expect to get the whole story today.
Friday night, Erik picks me up after work, in retrospect, maybe I should have gone home becuase I ended up in MV without toothbrush, jammies or any of the other things that girls just need because they are girls. Boys don't understand. Erik sold the van to his mom(Mama) and her bf (the moody Scicilian). The guys bled the brakes while Jr's gramma (Mama), Jr and I played and watched cartoons.

Saturday morning. Started my period. Very painful and gallons of blood. Thankfully, I had a bunch of tampons in my backpack because I was late and expected to start bleeding. I just didn't expect so much! Spent the morning on the couch drinking coffee with Southern Comfort and moaning softly while the guys played videogames.
I whined because I wanted to change my socks and underwear and comb my hair. Erik handed me a comb. Jr went to a martial arts class with his granpa (Papi) and I left a trail of blood all over MV.
(Listen, fellas. If a woman is lying on a couch, moaning softly and complaining that she can't comb her hair and her stomach hurts, she's probably on the rag.
Stroke her messy hair and offer her painkillers and backrubs. She will probably bite you but not as hard as she will if you say "what are you, on the rag or something?".
I don't understand why it's such a mystery.
Some day I will write the definitive guide to knowing when your woman is bleeding 9 pints of calves blood, so you guys won't have to wonder anymore. I know it all seems mysterious and weird, but it really isn't)
We went to Golden Gate Park and drank beers, watched the people and waited for Papi to drop off Jr. More playing went on.
Sunday. More laying on the couch. More bleeding. At one point I told Erik I had terrible cramps and that I had started my period. He said something like "oh, so it all ties in?" I have no idea if he was being sarcastic or not. By this time I had my Wal-eeve or whatever they call it and didn't much care about anything (tummyhurts, need bathroom). I'm sure we did something. Hmm. Sunday. Maybe we didn't do anything.
Monday. We got up late and played Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, until at least noon. Showers were taken. Food was eaten. Shoes and socks were put on. I put my bloody and rinsed out underwear in a plastic sack in my bag and took out the bathroom trash because I didn't want anyone else to have to deal with it. I'm so glad they don't have a dog.
We went to the park, but Jr was tired so it didn't last long. I told Erik, "That's ok, I need to get home and do a load of wash, anyway. He took me home and I was soo tired I fell asleep around 8pm, waking again around two and now here I am.
4:36.
AM.
Sorry this was so bloody and painful. I'm feeling much better now, but should have gone to the store for more tampons. Not looking forward to waking up. Oh, it already happened.
I have photos. Wait for them.