Dear Aunt Flo,
I have already made it abundantly clear from a young age that I do not like you. You're messy and painful. And your schedule of arrival is always inconvenient. It was rather mean of you to show up first thing in the morning of my fifth year wedding anniversary. And the cramps that you come with that literally reduce me to the fetal position on the floor? Yeah, I don't like those.
I am expecting your arrival any minute now. Even though I have prayed that you wouldn't come on this particular day, I am sure you will be along any moment just to spite me. Thanks in advance for the massive inconvenience of having to deal with a whining husband. He's going to be a real joy when I wake him up bright and early tomorrow morning so we can leave the hotel and drive two hours to get to my baseline appointment.
Now hear this: after your visit this month, you are no longer welcome for a long, long time. Go on vacation. Go bother somebody else. But you had better leave me and my uterus alone. Enjoy your stay while it lasts. After this, I'm kicking you to the curb. Peace the eff out, bitch.