Hello men! I thought this would be a good time to remind you that anything you can do, I can do bleeding. That’s right, whatever it is you did today, I can probably do it while hemorrhaging from the most sensitive part of my body. And I won’t die! Remember that when you’re standing on the train in the morning surrounded by bodies — roughly half of them female bodies. They could be bleeding. Standing and bleeding. Walking and bleeding. Smiling and bleeding. Think about it. A mortal being, walking the earth, shedding her blood continuously for a week, all while looking totally normal and smiling through eight hours of continuous meetings to avoid workplace discrimination. And the whole amazing process is partially controlled by the gravitational patterns of the moon. That’s right, my body is controlled by a giant space rock. A floating rock in the depths of space decides when I bleed. I think nine out of ten horror movie writers would agree that that alone makes me about one mutation shy of needing to be killed with a stake.
Now, you’re probably thinking that all this bleeding must be detrimental to my work. After all, humans need their blood to make spreadsheets and eat salads and attend internal debriefings. Well, you would be wrong. Dead wrong. You know what isn’t dead though? Me after bleeding constantly for seven days.