In the spirit of sharing too much information–which I tend to being doing an awful lot of lately–you've been warned, I can't wait to tell you about my latest billion dollar idea. It all hit me while my angry uterus was causing immense pain at, as always, the most inconvenient of times.
Billion Dollar Idea
It's Wednesday and a really cool paid movie review gets dropped on my plate. I get to actually make money while having a girl's night out with my friends at the movies. Man, sometimes us bloggers really have it good!
Naturally, I wake up in excruciating agony because my rotten womb has decided today is the day it wants to punish me for a lifetime of womanly mistakes. Actually, I don't know why my uterus hates me so. I may have misbehaved early in life and as a result gotten pregnant at sixteen. But I paid my dues. I owned my consequences and have never been prouder to be a young mom. It saved my life.
But, back to the miserable state my nether-half is in… Each month I hear myself say, “Oh my gawd, this is the worst period of my entire life.” And it's true. Every Single. Time. My cycle is more extreme every month and it's gotten to the point where hysterectomy talk is on the table. My tubes are tied and I don't do well on synthetic hormones so I've about had it. However, there are crazy risks involved with a major surgery like that so for now, I just suffer. Alone.
That's when it hit me. As I am sweating through the pain and the makeup I'm trying to get to stick to my slick skin as I get ready for this girl's night, I realized how many women are also suffering each month. Everyone I talk to about this seems to have their own horror story with regards to their uterus. Is there something in the water? Is it the sugar-loaded American diet that's making our collective uteri unhappy? Whatever it may be, we certainly don't have to be ashamed or alone. Misery loves company, right?
So, I think we need to make a movie theater dedicated to women on their period. It shall be a safe haven of uterine fellowship. Each lazy-girl seat will be supplied with a heating pad, bar(s) of chocolate, Kleenex, and wine. The lush, private bathrooms will be stocked with feminine products and amenities to pamper our raging lady parts.
Movie selections can include those from romantic, comedic, and dramatic genres. The lobby will also have similar amenities so that we may vent about our tumultuous insides.
The dress code shall be strictly enforced. Sweat pants, hoodies, slippers, robes, or whatever you deem worthy of comfort is the only attire allowed. If you're wearing make-up, it should only be because it's leftover from work or some other stupid life requirement. Because, here, we're goin' ugly. This is our safe zone where we can let loose, and celebrate our internal purge.
Don't have nasty periods? You're not welcome here. Just kidding, you can work for us. Or, chaperone the situation should we get completely out of control. In any case, I think this might actually be a billion dollar idea.
Who's with me?!
P.S. If this isn't finding magic in a mess, I don't know what is! 🙂
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