Next week I will officially be on the back side of my forties—to clarify, 47 years old. I remember when my mother turned 47. I was 22 years old and my mom, while she had a hip perm and wore skin tight black Calvin Klein jeans, seemed old-ish. My son at eight gets mad when I say “I’m old.” He continually tells me, “you don’t look old,” I guess it’s all relative (either that or my torn jeans and hoodie are doing the job of making me look youngish).
Forty-seven is not fifty but it’s getting pretty darn close. One of the many downsides of being on the backside of my forth decade is the much discussed yet barely understood stage called peri-menopause. I am finding that the topic, not unlike pregnancy, is shrouded in lies, (since when was pregnancy 9 months?). Yeah, sure I knew that “peri” means before but no one told me that it was the “peri” that caused all the problems, not the menopause. When you hit menopause its over, done, kapoot! But peri? That’s where it all happens—the long, slow, tortuous journey rife with an ocean of sweat, painful periods, a body that’s itching to get fat and an ever-present “fuck you” attitude.
I think they (those people in charge of medical words) should rebrand the whole term. Here’s some ideas: The Slow March, The Witching Hour or better yet…Adolescence—The Sequel.
So what does all this have to do with TGAAD? Lots. And that’s where my story begins.
Last week I bought two new sets of pajamas. There it is, that is my cheat. For several months now I have been having night sweats that have me wishing I had more bedtime bathing suits. I have found myself waking up in a Tempur-Pedic® swamp several times a night. On many occasions I am so drenched in sweat that the only solution is to take off my soaked pjs, put on a dry pair and crawl back into my clammy bed. Needless to say I need a few more change of bed clothes to get me through this stage.
If this is not justification for cheating I don’t know what is!
Loading ...
