umm... hello?

Something, referred to in some circles as Aunt Flo, Rag Week or falling to the Communists, should have arrived by now. It hasn’t, and although I’m not panicking just yet, I’m starting to wonder where it is. It’s not late or anything, actually I’m right smack in the middle of when it usually arrives. But it hasn’t. And I don’t feel like it’s imminent. I don’t feel the familiar rumblings of things starting to happen down there.

Although, on the plus side, my weight’s inexplicably low at the moment, my chin has erupted into its usual display of premenstrual horror, and I have a banging headache, all of which seem pretty encouraging signs.

I’ve been ludicrously busy these last couple of weeks, and running around like a blue-arsed fly, getting a little run down, and probably not getting enough sleep, so I’m wondering if that hasn’t knocked my body clock somewhat out of whack. I’m hoping so anyway, and hoping even more so that this no-show is absolutely and utterly nothing to do with the Frenchman (with whom certain precautions were very much taken).