I woke up at 2:45am thinking, very seriously, that it was 6am. For real. I was actually getting ready when I happened to glance at the clock. I was so sure that the clock was wrong, I went to check another. Now, I just feel stupid. Thanks, uterus, for the insomnia.
Also, I woke up hot flashy and nauseated. The hot flash is why I woke up. Thanks, uterus! Okay, I appreciate that work you did some years ago on the kid sleeping in the other room. That was cool. But, do you have to punish me now? She’s going to be a teenager someday. Isn’t that punishment enough? (It’s the middle of the night. These are the best jokes I can get when it’s the middle of the night.)
I want to be all earth-momish, dressed in my togs from the online hippie clothing store. I want to be all patchouli and mint leaves here, but really, let’s face it, honestly, perimenopause sucks. I can’t enjoy it. The feelings of dread, the fatigue, the headaches, the nausea, the fact that, when I have a period now, it’s like that elevator scene in the movie The Shining. You know the one I mean.
Also, a friend signed me up for an online page for women who are in perimenopause without talking to me about it. I hate her right now. Who does that? AARP has started sending me teaser literature. They have the best skip tracer EVER. You could be lost, on a tropical island, a soccer ball your only friend, and you’d get AARP literature in a coconut, delivered right on time. Seriously. Thanks, uterus. Okay, I know that the last one isn’t your fault. It’s simply being lucky enough to live to this point that made that happen. Still.
I remember when I was an arrogant 20-something person, and I heard women who were the age I am now. I would smugly think, “Oh, old person. (I was a stupid ass) I will never want to lose my ovaries or fallopian tubes. Or even my period. I don’t know why you are whining.” I say now, to the person I was then, “Shut the fuck up, you stupid idiot.” Thanks, uterus. And ovaries!
On the bright side, the little adorable monster in the next room just giggled in her sleep, so, you know, really, thanks, uterus for her. But, could we knock it off on the hot flashes, please? I have no vodka in the house, and I need to go back to sleep.