Reading the clots: Deciphering the future from my menstrual droppings
For a while now, I’ve been fascinated by tea-readings. I like the idea of knowing my fate, mostly because I’m incredibly lazy and need advice in all facets of my life. What day should I wear makeup in case I run into my crush? Should I enter that dumb Instagram giveaway? But honestly, I don’t drink tea, and I certainly don’t drink the kind of fancy loose-leaf tea that gives you answers to the universe. Instant coffee, anyone? Quite simply, I wanted a free alternative to read my future. So, I turned to the only thing I could think of (no, really): my period clots.
For those not in the know, menstrual blood clots are, well, exactly what they sound like. Kind of clumpy, they’re coagulated bits of blood or tissue that are discharged alongside a regular period. Ranging in size and shape, blood clots are, in my opinion, the best part of having a period. It’s like a Christmas surprise! It falls down the chimney and lies under the tree, waiting for you to discover your special little gift.
Day 1:
The first of any period is always the heaviest. This motherfucker really came out of me! A few cramps later, I passed a big and misshapen creature. A magnificent, yet also strangely vulnerable sight as I slowly spread out it out on toilet paper.
It was, I decided right there and then, an elephant. Not only was it big (don’t tell me to see a doctor after this. I am fine…I think) but there was a noticeable trunk to the blob.
I sent a picture to my flatmate who said “PLEASE don’t send me this again but yes, definite elephant material.” So, what does this mean??
After consulting with various websites and books, I discovered elephants are a sign of good health and long life. (See? No doctor needed here!) Apparently, elephants also show luck and happiness. Basically, I’d hit the jackpot on day one. Take that, school guidance counsellor!
Determined to cash in on my success, I spent $3 on a scratchy ticket and won a dollar. Not bad, not bad at all.
Day 2:
Another day, another clump! Never before had I been so happy to see this little guy wriggle his way through my front garden. Round at both ends but curving inwards, it was intriguing. Maybe an hourglass?
On reflection, however, apparently an hourglass means I’m in imminent danger. You know what, perhaps on second thoughts, it was a fish, which means good news from another country. My friends were all ignoring my texts at this point (rude frankly, considering they might never see me again after this clot news), so it was just me and the bathroom floor. Was I in danger? Or on the point of receiving excellent news from across the tides? If I was in danger, would my good-health-elephant-thing kind of cancel it out?
Unable to decide, or focus, I switched off my toaster at the wall (idk, it seems like a dangerous appliance) and distracted myself with Netflix. A few days later I received a spam email claiming that I’d won $100,000, so I’m counting that as my fish luck. Technically it was good news, albeit total bullshit.
Day 3:
The clot hath arriveth! This triumph was easy to spot from a mile away: it was a fucking hat! Definitely very baseball-cap-ish, which would have been cute but I don’t play sports. Anyway, apparently a hat means success in life. So basically, the exact same thing as the elephant. I’m no tea-reading expert, but how hard can it be to be a tiny bit more specific with your symbols? Success is so vague; does it mean immediately or 10 years from now? In my career, love life, what? Just tell me whether or not it’s safe to wear white pants tomorrow, that’s all I care about.
Day 4:
By now, the red sea situation was calming down a bit. Clots were few and far between, and it was only at 10:38pm that a decent chunk arrived. Finally. It was a bit on the small side, but by now my flatmate had returned to speaking to me, so I had another pair of eyes on the scene.
“It’s definitely an axe,” she said, confidently.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“No of fucking course not, it’s disgusting, that’s what it is. But let’s just go with axe.”
Axe it was. Apparently, this meant “overcoming issues”, which by that my flatmate snorted and said “but there are so many to choose from!”. Am secretly paranoid she might have done some prior googling to sway the answer, but it did kind of resemble a weapon? Let’s be honest, I’m being generous with all the shapes here, much like when I date boys who claim they’re 6”1.
As for overcoming issues, I decided to text the boy I liked, despite my overwhelming commitment issues. Take that, mystical period gods! In the end he never replied, I guess he might need a few axes of his own.
Day 5:
The time of my fortune-telling was coming to an end, I could see that now. The well was drying up rapidly, the flood gates closely. I prayed for one last sign, and miraculously, a tiny dot appeared. Hallelujah! Truly, praise be.
Does a dot count as a circle? It could kind of be a moon, but considering that meant success (again! Fuck that), I went with circle. This meant to expect money or presents. Oh boy.
All day I impatiently waited for my gifts, even verging on the barely-subtle. My flatmate was making a cake in the kitchen. “Is that for me?” I asked hopefully. It was for her mother’s birthday. It was also rent day, so I actually watched as those tiny numbers drained from my bank account. I lost money, damn you circle.
Maybe the present all along was this tiny dot of my period blood. After all, I did practically beg the toilet bowl for it. I should really make better wishes in the future. Fucking typical.
Overall, did I gain much from this experience? Not really, and I might have lost a few friends in the process. But I gained deeper insight over myself and my body. Success may come in the future, or death (really, I don’t think it was an hourglass, I swear), I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I think, in the future, I’ll stick to the Massive horoscopes, no matter how many times they tell me to stick a finger up my arse.