It's bizarre, but in a lot of ways, being in menopause is like being a teenager. Your body does weird things. You cry a lot. You eat a lot. You spend a lot of time huddled under the covers. And you get really, really angry.
Yesterday the Garden District newsletter appeared at our door. Amidst the various articles about new neighbors and the winners of the Holiday Lights competition was the stern reminder to "promptly bring in your garbage and recycling carts after they are serviced" and so maintain the aesthetic standards of the neighborhood.
My response was utter rage. I wanted to run outside and toss our carts in the street. I wanted to paint the garage purple, host a punk rock revival concert on the front lawn, and invite a lesbian African drumming collective to establish a retreat center in the back yard.
At least when I was a teenager I had perky boobs.
The thoughts and adventures of a woman confronting her second half-century.
About Me
- Facing 50
- Woman, reader, writer, wife, mother of two sons, sister, daughter, aunt, friend, state university professor, historian, Midwesterner by birth but marooned in the South, Chicago Cubs fan, Anglophile, devotee of Bruce Springsteen and the 10th Doctor Who, lover of chocolate and marzipan, registered Democrat, practicing Christian (must practice--can't quite get the hang of it)--and menopausal.
Names have been changed to protect the teenagers. As if.
Try a daily tablespoon of Barlean's organic oil "The Essential Woman." Don't know why but it help with the symptoms of menopause.
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