In today’s Rambling Thursday I’m sharing a few thoughts on the lovely experience of menopause.
Fan, how do I love you? Let me count the ways....I’ve used a fan while sleeping for years now. I can’t sleep without one humming in the background. Slowly it has progressed to desperation. Yet there is a fine line I cannot cross before my husband gripes. It’s strategically placed so that it blows only on me. And Lord help us if a puff of air blows on him.
Now it’s spiraled to a new level of dependency. We are positively joined at the hip. A fan sits in the living room pointed at the love seat where I sit. I’ve even contemplated handhelds but it’s not to that extreme yet.....Yet.
Layer, layer, toil and trouble....I love jackets, hoodies, turtlenecks, sweaters, cardigans, etc... I would open the closet and throw them on with nary a thought. Now I hesitate with trepidation. When the burning ball ignites within my chest, my striptease begins. First the outer layer, then the sleeves pulled up. It’s a dilemma.
I love scarves. It’s kind of like a women’s tie. Love the various colors, how it dresses up any outfit. Now at times it suffocates like a boa constrictor. And oh how the new ponchos allure me. But wrapping a blanket around me would probably be a bad idea. Layers are a must for survival, and for not indecent exposure. Thankfully we are in the midst of winter. We won’t think about summer for now.
Sleep, Sleep, O how I yearn for thee....I remember a long ago time when my son slept till three in the morning, and we were positively giddy. Previously I was up about every two to three hours feeding him. Oh how wonderful it was to sleep uninterrupted hours of blissful sleep.
I love sleep. I heard a woman say she wished her husband would carry her into the bedroom, throw her on the bed, take her clothes off, tuck her in and then leave to do the dishes. Oh yes, sleep is such a wondrous thing. Due to the nightly ball of fire in my chest, (And I don’t mean a passionate ball of fire), sleep has become a fleeting thing. It’s no wonder I’m walking around in a zombie state for most of the day.
That reminds me...As far as I can recall...If memory serves me correctly....Oh forget it!!!
This is probably related to the sleep issue, but I’m finding myself doing questionable things. Once I tried to place the milk jug in the cabinet next to the cereals. I’m forgetting names terribly. True conversation between my husband and I about an upcoming TV show: I can’t wait to watch that new show next week. It has that one actress who sings also? Oh really, what’s her name? At this point all I can remember is it starts with a J. I rack my brain for any clues. No help there. Oh forget it, I can’t remember her name.
Another lovely conversation: What is this payment for? Husband questions me...I petition my lethargic brain for any clues. I believe it’s for my credit card payment. No, it’s for this book I bought. Husband implores me: Well you need to write this down in the check balance sheet. I remark back: That’s what an online back account is for. It’s asking too much to write it down when I can barely remember it the next hour.
Now don’t get me wrong, we are not approaching financial ruin, but it certainly adds a certain excitement to an otherwise mundane conversation.
So there’s nothing left to say now, except to see the humor in it all, to laugh at the absurdity. It helps to know millions upon millions of women have gone through this and come through the other side. I will also.
I leave you with this today: Chin up soul sister!