WARNING: This post really doesn't give a shit about social rules about what is polite and what is not. So cursing, talking about nasty things, etc, will most definitely occur, or I'll send you cookies.
So it's the tail end of my period, so I was tossing the pad into the dainty little box they always have attached to the wall of the bathroom stall, and I opened the top, and a plethora of colors greeted my eyes. It was like all those companies are trying to make periods 'trendy' and 'fun'. Hey, periods are fun! They're like a fiesta! I mean, look at the bright colors! I'm waiting for the day a commercial says this:
Periods--Fiestas in Your Pants!
*Please note, periods are not fiestas in the pants. Sex, now that is a fiesta in the pants. Not periods. Though I really don't have room to talk, because my periods are actually easy going other than killer cramps. You know, the kind that make you want to curl into a fetal position and whimper until the Bad Thing goes away? Yeah, those kinds.
And I just had something hit me. At the end of the week, I'll officially be a pastry chef. Of course I don't have the experience I need to be a full fledged on, but I got the learning and the fancy piece of paper saying I am.
....holy fucking shit, I'm a chef. Christ on a stick.
Someone give me a tub of ice cream and a spoon. This calls for comfort food, and celebration food, all at once.
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