Once a month, whether I need it or not
Looking back over my post history, I have been posting about once per month. A monkey with a typewriter could do better.
It’s so different from the early blogging days when I had to hold myself back from posting more than once per day…but that was before all these other outlets for my blather. At least I Instagram daily, mostly pictures of flowers and Abbie.
Part of it was that winter was awful. Or that I was awful in winter. I have been eating too much, started drinking again and barely exercised other than twice-daily dog walks. I’m fat again, have had entirely too much red wine over the winter and am so incredibly disappointed in myself.
Ok, I’ll say it: I’m mad about menopause. It has been driving me pretty literally crazy.
But Suebob, you say helpfully, you were pretty literally crazy before menopause.
Shut up and bring me a popsicle, I snarl in response, mopping my sweaty brow.
Because I most certainly have a sweaty brow. Hot flashes at least twice per hour, every hour of the day and night. My friend Kyle wanted to know what it felt like.
“You know when you have the oven up to 450 degrees and you open the door and that whoosh of heat comes out? Like that,” I said.
I also started getting arthritis. I hobble out of bed on stiff feet walking like a pelican. My hand joints are getting knobby. My neck crunches like a bag of potato chips.
Yes, my friends, I’m having a big old pity party and you are the guest of honor.
I’m considering my options. I had dinner the other night with a woman who went on hormone therapy to cure her night sweats and sleeplessness. Did I mention sleeplessness? Because gah. It stinks. And crabbiness. She had crabbiness. I may have a tiny touch myself.
I might try it. Until then, I’ll be here with my blue chilly towel around my neck and a fruit icee in my hand.