Period living

I was in the supermarket the other day. As I left, I walked past the news stand and there I saw a glossy mag called Period Living. Imagine that, a monthly devoted to monthlies.

How nice.

I was too laden down with groceries to be bothered to stop to buy one, but it's left me pondering as to its content.

Editorial - How to tell when your colleague is being visited by the Pink Fairy
I don't think you need to read a magazine article to point out the tell-tale signs of a woman's menstrual cycle. And colleagues are best avoided irrespective of the state of their hormones and gussets.

Special feature - Plug it up or let it flow: do modern sanitary towels really cut the mustard?

Honestly, I can feel a letter coming on. And they sold it in Sainsbury's too!


I want my plastic wallet back!
I finally sent my driver's licence off to Swansea so as to change my address - I've only been here since April. Anyway, I sent off the paper bit, the card bit and the plastic wallet that they both came in originally. The amended licence was returned sans wallet. Thieving Welsh bastards.

I'll remember this the next time they want road tax from me. "Oh, did I forget to send the cheque? Silly me."


T minus seventeen
April will be here in 17 days. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with her. I've never really thought about the things I could do with April in all honesty. No, really, honestly, it's never entered my head.

I wonder if I need to tell the local authorities that she's coming, just so as to warn them and so they can ensure an extra police presence round these parts.

I'm going to take on this thing, it'll be fun. I might tell her that you have to climb up the frame to access the pods.


Monday minus nine
The weekend is nearly over again. Sundays are so depressing; the anticipation of another week at work. How desperately miserable.