that time of the month that means i want to spit fire at my husband when he tells me to ‘jaldi, jaldi’ (hurry up) in the mornings.
that time when the honking horns of Mumbai traffic freakin’ well get on my nerves.
that time when I feel like gouging the eyes out of the taxi driver who stares at my chest.
that time when all reason goes out the door.
that time when I thank god I had the foresight to organise a girls night out with a friend tonight.
that time when I turn into a volcano when a telemarketer dares to try and sell insurance to me.
that time when anyone cutting into a queue in front of me will get a stare as cold as antartica and a loaded ‘excuse me’ that will convey what I actually mean: who do you think you are, you f*’n f*er, and how dare you think you can cut in front of me? You think your time is more valuable than mine? Did you mother never teach you any manners? Do you even know what the word manners means? I bet you don’t, you f*er.
that time when I dont feel guilty about low balling the subziwallah in the bargaining game.
that time when chocolate is a freakin health product – it’s made out of milk isnt it?
that time when red wine is also a freakin’ health product – grapes?!
that favourite time of month that makes being a woman really special.
see you monday, i’m off to tape up my mouth for the weekend.