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I do believe I am a genius. I figured out a rather clever way of ensuring that I manage to incorporate a little bit of pleasure reading* into my life, without putting it off for months and months at a time and having a humongous pile of books to work through during reading break and winter break.

I used to do the constant cycle of birth control pills, but now I’ve refrained from doing that, and have a monthly period which lasts from three days to a week. During my period, (un)lovingly referred to as “shark week”, there’s nothing much I want to do except sit on my bed with an icy hot patch, a vibrator, a plate of medium-rare steak with fried onions and garlic butter, and an array of cupcakes. I rarely ever manage to get schoolwork done, and spend most of my time either in bed, or in various yoga positions so that I can relieve the damn cramping.

My period is the ultimate time to work on self-care of the body, why not work on self-care of the mind as well with some pleasure reading? Every month, during my period, I vow to read at least one book for pleasure. It comes once a month, like clockwork, and there’s no way I’ll ever forget the date. Maybe associating pleasure reading with my period will help make it more pleasant, even enjoyable. I can glance at my calendar and say “Hey! My period is coming up! That means I’ll finally have time to read that new Stephen Fry novel I bought at Munro’s a month ago! Hooray!”

 

 

* Defined here as “readings that I do not for anything related to school, work, or activism, but purely for my own pleasure and escapism.

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