As it turns out, I did not wake up skitzophrenic. However, I did wake up, bleeding all over my white sheets at 4AM.

That's right, got my period and it actually leaked onto my sheets, through my sheets and onto the mattress pad which pisses me off to no end.

So, I stripped my bed at 4AM this morning. Threw the sheets out. Love that.

When I was groggily thinking about changing my sheets today, I remembered something that happened to me during my freshman year of college.

Did I mention that I was a filthy party animal in college? I mean, it was ridiculous. I did pretty much everything possible to pollute my body in a manner that could be likened to functioning on an alcohol and drug IV. It was great.

I lived with this really smart Accounting major, who never smoked, drank or had sex before college. Needless to say, living with me was an *adjustment*. The second week of college my new friends D. and C. broke into our dormroom (they actually broke the lock on the door) around 5am on a Tuesday night and jumped in my twin bed with me. They scared the shit out of my roommate and when I tried to salvage the situation, by picking each of them up and bodily throwing them into crumpled heaps on the floor in our hallway and slamming the door, my roommate nearly pooped her pants.

After that, she considered moving out, but I convinced her to stay - as my previous roommate, a nursing major, who lived with me all of one night at orientation and was so repulsed with my bad behavior after that night, she requested a transfer before the school year even started. Loser.

So, one night, later that year, I was out at an upperclassman party off-campus and the place was PACKED. It was late and I was loaded. L-O-A-D-E-D. I couldn't deal with the line to the bathroom, so I went out back and popped a squat.

Somehow, I remembered in my highly fucked up state, that I had my period and needed to change my tampon. So in my filthy twisted mind, I actually decided to change my tampon in the backyard of this house, which in itself is horrendous, this I can recognize now.

Proud of myself for being able to do this, I went inside, hit the bong a few more times, played a few more rounds of anchorman and eventually at some point that night(ie - morning), made it back to campus.

I woke up the next day, to a scream. I'm not sure whether it was me screaming or my roommate, but I remember seeing her face and looking down at my body tangled up in completely blood soaked sheets.

Now, because the sheets were soaked in blood and I do mean soaked, the blood covered my legs, arms, neck and face in sheet marks - almost like you might use a piece of plastic to paint walls.

I jumped up and screamed, "I'm cut! I'm cut!" This was just after we had heard the urban legend about the college girl who walked into her room late one night and saw outlines of her roommate and some guy getting it on, so she didn't turn on the lights and pretended to sleep through the moaning and the next morning she woke up to a blood soaked room, a dead roommate and a message written in blood on her wall that said "Aren't you glad you didn't turn the lights on?"

Yeah, yeah. You've all heard it. Well so did we, but now my roommate thinks this psychopath hit me and I lived!

I run into the bathroom trying to figure out what the hell happened. We scour every inch of my body looking for a knife wound or something and find nothing. And then I see my underwear.

It all becomes clear.

Apparently, Drunky McGee over here wasn't as clever as she thought. I changed my tampon, but never put another one in. My blood, thinned from the massive amounts of alcohol, bled and bled all night.

It was really embarrassing, as the rest of the girls on the floor wandered into the bathroom to see what the commotion was about, but not half as embarrassing as it would have been if I had brought someone home with me that night.

Thank God for small favors.

Anyway, my roommate eventually loosened up and we ended up becoming close friends, living together for two years.

She got married this past September.

I have never made that tampon mistake again.

So we've all learned from this experience.

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