Beast: Great news. The blood stains came out of the sheets. They are washed and the bed is made.
Foodie: This is maybe the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me.
Beast: But the whole process got me thinking…
Foodie: Go on.
Beast: Maybe it’s time you switched to pads.
Beast: At least during the night. You aren’t a 16-year-old girl anymore!
He has a point. It used to be that my period was nothing to really write home about. I’d get it for a couple of days, then it would disappear for two more, and maybe make a surprise return on day 5. But the return wouldn’t be like a roaring standing ovation at the end of a concert. It was always more like a whisper after a mediocre movie, as if to say, “Eh”.
The intensity of my period over the last several months has been startling. The morning in question–the bloodied bedsheets–found me waking up wondering if there was a severed horse’s head under the sheets.
My friend Lainey said it’s like a last hurrah: our bodies are telling us it’s not long now until the bleeding stops altogether. So why not go out with a bang?
I’ve thrown out so many pairs of underwear that yesterday we decided to go shopping for new ones. Bloor Street was surprisingly calm. But an escalator was broken at The Bay and they were out of pumpkin spice at the Indigo Starbucks and I don’t even know how people do it.
And get this: I didn’t even buy any goddamn underwear! I was overwhelmed by the options. So many fabrics and cuts! How can I be in my forties and not know what sort of underwear I’m supposed to wear?
I did, however, find a pair of double monk-strap shoes for more than 50 per cent off!
And I also bought a pair of 50 per cent off pants from Banana Republic and I didn’t even have to try them on because they are the same pair that Erica, who styles us for what we wear on the show, had secured for me at work. They’re just a nice pair of good black pants that fit perfectly and don’t need to be hemmed.
Or are they? I just tried them on and they are too tight and too long.
The Beast is cleaning the kitchen and the washroom. But he keeps coming into the dining room where I’m writing this while trying to buy him the books–and a Criterion box set of three movies by Andre Gregory and Wallace Shawn (?!)–he name-dropped yesterday. Oh god the prices are so much cheaper at Amazon.com versus .ca but what about the duty? The currency exchange? And we said no Christmas presents this year!
There are also approximately 15 tabs open on my computer when I was searching for Black Friday all-inclusive vacation sales earlier today. In February, we could go back to Sol Pelicano in Cayo Largo, Cuba for $2,000 all in! Cheap and cheerful!
Or to this place in Negril, Jamaica called Sunset at the Palms for $5,500, which is way more but it’s normally that much per person–and you stay in a treehouse! And the treehouses were featured in Architectural Digest!
Plus, I could use some of my Aeroplan points because this place is an Air Canada vacation but when I try to use some of my 100,000 points I only get $500 off and that sounds like bullshit. Also you have to cross a busy road to get to the beach. But seriously, how do people effectively use their points? It never works for me.
So from Cuba to Jamaica to Mexico because my Uncle Ron lives in Morelia and we’ve never visited him so what if we go there? We could fly into Mexico City and stay for a couple of night, and also tack on an AirBnB stay near a beach south of Morelia along the Michoacan coast! And there are places right on the beaches!
But then my brain went to Christmas because our landlord is fixing our leaky roof right now, which is great, but there is so much unsightly damage upstairs and what about all the dinner parties I want to have in December, not to mention we’re hosting family on the 25th this year. Will there be time to repair it all? But I guess people don’t even have to go upstairs so they won’t even see it. But right now half the contents in the music room are in our bedroom and I can’t live like this for much longer.
Oh god I have to get a tree up. And I’m only 20 pages in to my work book club book–The Rules of Magic–and I should be reading it but it’s about witches and I just can’t right now with that garbage. I’m sure it’s a fine book and I’ll be able to suspend my disbelief but all I really want to do is finish A Little Life, which is 700+ pages but I’m half way through!
The Beast is finished cleaning. And he just finished his second book this week.
I just want to finish one thing, complete one project, or even one thought. I mean, should I be using pads? I can’t even imagine using pads. I can’t even buy underwear.
But I am going to make a pot roast tonight. I’m fairly confident I can finish that.