The Monthly Tent Tragedy

Originally posted on February 10, 2025, from my previous blog. A lighthearted take on the monthly chaos of my menstrual cycle, featuring imaginary uterus workers, fairy lights, and the inevitable collapse when nature calls it off.

Every month, deep within my body, a dedicated little crew of uterus architects gets to work.

“Alright, team! The boss might be having a baby this time, so let’s make this place NICE.”

And so, they build. They lay down the softest, coziest lining. They set up a sturdy little tent, complete with premium insulation, just in case. They even hang some fairy lights. It’s a five-star setup, ready for a VIP guest.

Then, the waiting begins.

The crew gathers around. “Any sign of the baby?” they whisper. Days pass. They check the guest list. They double-check.

Then finally, the call comes in from HQ (aka my ovaries):

“No baby. Pack it up.”

Chaos erupts. The fairy lights flicker and die. The tent poles snap. The lining collapses. The entire structure violently self-destructs like an over-budget festival being shut down.

And then? THE DAM BREAKS.

The crew, now in full crisis mode, screams “RELEASE THE FLOOD!” and that’s when I, the innocent bystander, feel the full wrath of my body’s disappointment.

And thus, the cycle of destruction ends… only for the rebuilding to begin again. See you next month, you little overachievers.