Warning: Today’s topic is mostly for the ladies (and perhaps a few brave men). Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
I have always loved summer. I love the warmer weather, the lighter clothes, and the slower pace. I appreciate a break from regular routines and dire deadlines.
At least I did…until this year.
While I’m still enjoying the sunshine, the sundresses and the slow schedules, I’m getting sick of the heat.
I haven’t been able to putter in my garden (most of it has turned to dust). I haven’t been able to enjoy a good book on the back porch. I haven’t even been able to enjoy a good night’s sleep. Even when I was on vacation.
I think it’s because Mother Nature isn’t the only one who is menopausal. I’ve been trying to convince my doctor for a few years now, that even though I’m barely in my 40’s, my biological clock battery is running low. This year, as I sat in her office, sweating through my paper dress before her very eyes, she believed me!
It’s bad enough I’m struggling to accept 1) my 3 gray hairs that keep coming back and bringing friends; 2) weight gain just by thinking about dessert; and,3) the pain in my toes heralding the approaching end of high heels. It would seem that I am acquiring a new set of tell-tale signs in the next stage of aging…
I sleep alone and yet, I still wrestle with temperature control.
I have trouble going to sleep. I have trouble staying asleep. By 6 a.m. I’m finally heading into a deep sleep and my alarm goes off. I hear every little noise; I worry about the craziest things.
There’s a fine line between love and homicide, and I’ve had increasingly “homicidal” days. This week I thought about quitting my job and taking up pole dancing…then I remembered that I’m fat, I have the upper body strength of a fairy, and I can’t really dance.
I have less patience with people and increasingly I feel more like a “secretary with a crossbow” at work. I congratulate myself at the end of the day because I haven’t beaten anyone with a chair…maybe my people skills are improving? I suppose that’s better than feeling sorry for myself – I don’t have the patience for that either!
Maybe I should put this sign up:
- Weight gain and slowed metabolism
I’m on a low-fat diet…my fat hangs lower every year. And while guys still notice my boobs, they have to bend forward to see them. My doctor was impressed that not only have I maintained my weight since 2011, I’ve lowered it a bit every year…which makes me wonder more and more what is in my closet that makes my clothes shrink?
I forgot was I going to say…
It’s bad enough that my snow white gams are blinding on a cloudy day…or at midnight, but now they’re white and flaky too. It’s like leg dandruff, and that’s. not. sexy.
Do I need to say more?
- Hot flashes (or power surges)
I would love a smoking body, but this is not what I had in mind. I am developing 2 temperature settings – hypothermia and hell! Some would suggest I consider it a mini vacation in the tropics…but it’s still only my living room, and I still can’t wear a bikini (they’ve outlawed whaling). I would happily strip in a snowbank if I wasn’t afraid of getting arrested for indecent exposure. I’ve watched “Orange is the New Black” – I’m not strong enough for prison! I might not mind so much if the heat melted off some extra fat, particularly around my knees, elbows and “bingo wings“. Just how does one “de-chubbify” ones’ knees and elbows? But …
Time is not only no longer on my side; it has totally defected. It sucks!
I’ve considered developing a long-term relationship with Mr.Bubble, Dr. Pepper and Henry (O Henry!), except that I’m afraid to take baths and Dr. Pepper ‘s caffeine doesn’t help the sleep situation. That leaves Henry (O Henry!) and I feel guilty every time I cheat on Hubby.
But if my eyebrows start migrating to my chin, all bets are off! Dad, I’m gonna need more of these!
Yup! It’s the beginning of “the raging inferno of my youth going up in flames”!
Everybody look out!
(And have a happy weekend!) 🙂