He picked up a yellow post-it and began jotting down. It didn't take him long to do the math. Forty years having a period every month, twelve months a year, we subtract pregnancies and extras, so many months, so many hours... She wanted to know what would have been saved with labor legislation due to painful rules, if it had existed in her time. Three days a month, for twelve months, is thirty-six days off a year. Multiplied by forty years of bleeding, a total of 1,440 holidays and retributive days.
Recognizing the caricature of the calculation and beyond the joke, the result is terribly graphic. The post-it lady belongs to the group of women who have gone through working life with Amazonian rules without saying a word. We still did wrong. One day we found out that sick leave for painful rules had been applied in Japan since 1947 and we didn't even mention it to our men just in case.
There is a simulator that reproduces menstrual pain, graded by intensity. The other day, without going any further, I had a good time watching the experiment on television. They applied the device to the abdomen of the male volunteers – some in favor of the new law, out of marital solidarity, others furiously against it – who passed by on the street. They all expressed their surprise, writhed in pain, and asked for the little joke to stop.
I am not very sure if this advance has been successful, let me reflect on the pros and cons and reread the reasons of Irene Montero, Yolanda Díaz and also those of Nadia Calviño. The stigmatization thing, the endometriosis thing. But what I do know is that the professional life of some – I spare you anecdotes as tiresome as those of the military – would have been much more bearable.
Forty years with iron deficiency anemia in tow have ended suddenly with a menopause, against all odds, encouraging. Finally, at least, walk without puffing.
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