I'm grateful that this didn't happen until I started at this job with insurance, but it's bringing through my available leave hours like no one's business. I mean, granted, I don't have many, but still, what I do have is about to all be gone by the end of the year. At least two of my appointments are after the break starts, so I don't have to use leave for them.
But mostly I'm going to be glad not to be bleeding all the time. Seriously, all the time. It's gotten to the point where I don't even tell my coworkers that I'm going to the bathroom. I just say "I'm going to go check the crime scene," and they know what I mean. Well, not Richard, because the four of us women try to shield him a bit, and not Chris, because he's the boss and never there, but still. LaTrease, Glynda, Anastasia, and I know what "the crime scene" means. It's become office code already.
I'm just so off in la-la land right now that it's almost funny. I want to be writing. I have ideas for writing. I have a bit of actual fluff going... instead of the pain and angst I've usually got going. But no, I'm too tired to do anything even vaguely effective for writing. I've had a relatively cramp-free set of days, and apparently that leads to fluff. I know, when I'm cramping or changing pads every hour or two, that's when I end up torturing characters. Oh my gods, but do I end up torturing characters. I've had entire verses spun out of how badly the cramps suck, where I end up tormenting characters more than is right or proper. (And thus the Worst Case Scenario verses were born. FYI.)
And yeah, I'm so out of it. I'm just gonna finish this up and go throw myself at my bed. So long, my freaky darlings.