“Devil’s Own” Special Sauce- Not for the Squeamish

WARNING: If you thought you were about to read a really great recipe for hot BBQ sauce, STOP NOW! This isn’t THAT!

I hate 5:45 a.m. on my day off. I hate it that it’s still dark. Actually, it’s not the time of day I hate at all. It certainly isn’t the warm, snuggly covers, either. Entirely un-hateful. What’s hateful is day one of my period when it follows night one, light one- of my period.

I used to have this crazy superstition that when you have a late period, you might be pregnant. That was before the tubal ligation/cauterization procedure I had in 1995, and before I approached living- relic age. Now my superstition is that when your period is really late, it’s because you wanted a baby- at some insane, glandular level- so badly that you just keep holding out. Biology disagrees. But one thing is for sure. When my period is late, is can finally come in with a near-hemorrhagic flood that mere “super plus” tampons and pads just can’t handle. Ditto the sheet. Oh, and the mattress pad.

I had been having a lovely dream, in the perfect cool, peace, and quiet of the pre-dawn. Days are already getting shorter. The sun is sleeping in now, too, It’s after six and he’s a no-show.  Perfect for sleeping at five-forty-five in the blessed morning. Ah, the dream. I was on the roof of some structure, and my husband was assuring me that climbing down the rail on the side was easy, just like ‘last time’. I don’t want to tell him that I don’t remember doing this last time, but then I do start to remember. Besides, this isn’t too high, really. Maybe one story. I have no idea why I was up there. Then I dreamed that my mother in law was very, very elderly. She and I and my daughter Kay-tee are sitting in a cafeteria eating. My mother -in-law is talking about ‘tare-a-mel’. And I am puzzled, and say, annoyed, “you mean Caramel?”  

I don’t know why, maybe because I was starting to stick to the sheets, but at that point I woke up and everything felt very wrong. I quickly deduced the  age-old problem and stumbled into the laundry room with the offended bed clothes. As usual, random songs I have heard since I was a small child start streaming through my mind, leftover dreams that are clinging to me. I dream in song quite a bit. Today’s selections included, “Lady in Red”, and “Slip-Slidin’ Away”.   I was not ready to wake up yet today. I want to cry. I feel like I need to have an vitamin with iron, so I do. I also have a spoon of peanut butter and a half-banana. Need to keep my energy up after all… that…blood…loss… The dramatics are getting ridiculous.  The sheets are in the wash, with the mattress cover, and I am up drinking warmed up coffee from yesterday. I am also thinking that it’s not too late to slip back into a nice morning sleep session. It’s still dark outside, at 6:26. It won’t be long until sunrise, though.

None of that matters, now. I was awakened by “The Monthly Torrent,” “The Red Tide”,  the “Devil’s Own Special Sauce”. There’s no going back to sleep now. Or is there?


One thought on ““Devil’s Own” Special Sauce- Not for the Squeamish

  1. yes, it’s true! Thanks for the comment. It seems that early pregnancy and PMS share a few of the same symptoms. I just hate it when I flood myself, the bed, even the mattress pad despite the fact that I was fully ‘protected’ when I went to bed. They’re heavier when they’re late, and that annoys me and also it’s kinda scary. I start thinking ” this can’t be normal!”. Somehow, I did manage to get back to sleep until . It was great! Thank you again for posting a comment. I really love those!

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