Worse came to worse, and I felt the unmistakable onset of my period today.
As I sat in the marketing class, a sharp twist of pain gripped my stomach, making it hard to focus. Even in the coolness of the lecture hall, beads of sweat formed at my temples, each drop a testament to my discomfort. Unlike my classmates, who appeared composed and engaged, I felt a wave of distraction wash over me, dragging my mood down with it.
The woman at the front, a formidable figure in our academic lives, was renowned for her rigorous teaching style, relentless until we had transcribed at least three pages of notes.
My vision blurred, and I struggled to concentrate on the barely filled pages in front of me. A mere two pages. I couldn't bear the thought of enduring another one; I needed to escape. The bathroom became my sanctuary, a necessary refuge from the mounting agony.
