I was sitting in class last week. As I was rifling through my bag, which by this point in the semester is a train wreck of papers, books, pens, lip balms, loose change, and a sole o.b. tampon.
In the flurry or activity, I dropped the bag on the floor, and a tampon spilled out and rolled across the floor in a lecture room on the 2nd floor of the Ruth Adams building.
Now, if this had happened when I attended community college in the late 80’s I probably would have been mortified and quite possibly, shed a tear over this.
Last week however, it barely even registered a change in pulse or blood pressure. I’m a chick. I’m 38. I still get my period. I use tampons when that happens. Embrace pragmatism.
