Drink your juice.

Tonight at dinner I ended up

explaining to a guy how tampons can give you toxic shock and why, hypothetically, a woman might leave a tampon in so long that she would get toxic shock and die, and then there was a ten minute joke tangent about period culture and menstruation because I like to create a really safe emotional space for my friends to eat in.

Long story short, when I got home just now and was under the impression I was the only one in the apartment, I threw my purse on the ground and groaned, “UGH. SMELLS LIKE PERIOD BLOOD IN THIS HELLHOLE.” Then my roommate slowly leaned back in his chair so that he’d be visible through the kitchen doorway and said, “Hey.”

Hey, man.