I Think A Woman's Body Is A Piece Of Art

Let's face it, we look much better naked than men and it's a pity they don't fully understand our bodies as much as we'd like them to. I'm talking about the 'icky' side of things. There is always that moment of nervous anticipation before the event, together with that nagging doubt. I almost want to feel those pangs in the pit of my abdomen as the day approaches. Whilst I know that all appropriate steps have been taken, I still wonder how I'll deal with it if the worst came to the worst, after all, accidents happen. Nothing is 100%. I try not to think about it but it's there, in the back of my mind. Until the day comes and I won't be able to relax. "Come on," I mutter to myself through gritted teeth, "come oooon!"
It was with some relief then, that yesterday, a week late, my period nonchalantly breezed onto the scene. 'Comme si de rien n'était..'

"What?" it asks, somewhat indignatly as I roll my eyes upward and heave a sigh of relief.
"You're late!"
"Only a week.."
"But you're never late!"
"Give me a break. How long have you known me now?" Let's see .. Christ, it must be 20 years."
"Have I ever let you down before?"
"Well, no.. apart from a couple of occasions when you turned up early."
"You know, you really should learn to trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Except for one particularly hot day when it suddenly started earlier than I expected and on a bus ride to work, with me wearing my flimsiest of undies..
Bastard.