Hormoine

A friend happened to mention that there can’t be a female stand-up comedian, who can go too long without making jokes on periods or vaginas. Probably. But hey, I’m not trying to be a stand-up comic here. Also, let me assure you, nothing about periods is funny, when they happen. It’s only funny in retrospect.

If you’re wondering what the title of this blog post is all about, it’s a quirky portmanteau of the words “Hormones” and “Hermione”; the later, someone I have always idolized and the former, something that leaves me idle-ized. So addressing the elephant in the room, which might as well be me cause I’m bloated: I am hormonal and warming up to welcome the dreaded period monster. Capisce?

Being hormonal is such a normal thing for girls, it’s almost a a synecdoche of our existence. It’s not exactly a bad thing. It just makes it very hard for us to control our emotions, sometimes. Specially when the body is already being terrorized by a plethora of physically painful manifestations. Ah well!

I think I could very well write a rule-book on how to function like a sane person during these monthly occurrences. But taking a leaf out of anyone’s book, at such times, means literally ripping pages apart, either out of sheer agitation, or desperation to learn how to assuage the badgering fiend that resides in the non-pregnant uterus.

So how do I work out a truce?

In a series of tongue-in-cheek posts deliberating on how life would be without the ever-contracting damsel in distress. So, watch me attempt a true friendship with Cruella, queen of reproductory pain. More posts to follow!

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