On Day 2 of my period, I cancel a Zoom call, reheat the same cup of coffee for the third time, and stare at the ceiling fan like it owes me rent. Meanwhile, my maid walks in, sweeping and cooking like it’s any other day. I don’t even know when she gets her period—she never lets on and honestly, I never asked. I lie there, curled up with a hot water bag, and think: how does she manages do all this work while I’m a puddle of hormones and heat packs and can't take a freaking call? This makes me think about how women in offices, in leadership …
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