How Lovely to Be a Woman

Here I sit, for the 3rd morning in a row, having had about 2 hours' sleep, staring at the humid breezeless dawn.

Really, perimenopause wouldn't be complete if you could escape from its tortures by getting a few hours of unconsciousness. No, one should be continually aware of all the special effects, to lose even a few moments of this momentous life event would be a waste! Of course, some of my friends have things I wish I got- like cold chills. Oh, for a good shiver to relieve the constant furnace I am. On the upside, I never had to turn the heat up beyond 55 all winter because I was bodily contributing to Global Warming.

Then there are the swelling body parts and vigilantly avoiding any food that may make it impossible to bend your fingers. Or the arbitrary periods that may or may not show up after the PMS from Hell. What kinda period will it be this time? A Peckinpah festival or barely worth a tampon's cost? Will it last 10 days or 2? Will I get it again in two weeks or not for another 3 months? Surprise me! After 36 years, there's new tricks in this pony afterall! Hot damn! Did I mention arhythmia? That's a treat all to itself. Nothing like having your heart flop around in your chest as you desperately try to get some-any-sleep-please-gods-just a few hours of sleep! And just as you think your heart will go thru your throat or stomach, it stops, waiting for you to relax and catch you unaware. After the exhaustion peaks and you drop on your bed, expecting Morpheus to claim you at last, the lower back pain kicks in so there's no chance you'd sleep in any position the human body is capable of, anyway.

So you get up, drag your sweating, sagging miserable ass to your desk and wait for sunrise, again. Ah, yes. No wonder the Hasids thank their god everyday that they weren't born a woman. And no wonder that program "Snapped" is almost always about a menopausal woman.