My Friend?

When I was a teen, and would get my period, my mother would call it my "friend".
There have been times when "she" would come around, (like when I didn't want to be pregnant) and yes, I would say she was a friend. But for the rest of those 33 years, friend is not a word I would use. Not a good friend anyway.
Being in my late 40's now, my "friend" is really bugging me. A period means, "end of sentence". So end my sentence already, will ya?! She used to come and visit every 26-28 days, and stay about 3-4 days. An ok visit, but I'm glad she didn't live here. Lately, my "friend" seems to want to hang around longer, and come to visit sooner. I did not invite her to do this. Every 21 days is too close of a visit for me. And to top it off, she brings along her "friends", Miss Lotta Cramps, and Miss Flo Allweek. Not to mention Mrs. Tightndry who likes to put her two cents in when my husband is trying to put his in.
I know, I know, soon they will be out of my life forever, and then some other "friends" will show up at my door. I heard about that hot, flashy little number who shows up at the most inopportune time. What's up with her?
I am so done with these visitors. You did your job, now dry up and go away. You are really getting annoying, and because of you I am snapping at my family. I am not a crazy maniac, but your visits are turning me into one. Like I said earlier, you were ok to me all these years, but now you are bugging me. I promise I will tell my girls about you and I will be nice.
Maybe I'll miss you and maybe I won't. If you left for good today, I have to vote, not missing you. A hundred years from now, when I'm a brittle old lady, breaking every bone in my body just by sneezing, I will fondly remember the days that you were with me, and vote, miss you.