Friday, April 01, 2011

God gave me long arms for a reason.

Let's update you on the state of my hormones, shall we?

If you will recall, my hormones are completely oblivious that they only exist because I exist.  They go about their business and don't give me any consideration whatsoever.  They do not care that they cause me to grow a goatee, or make my boobs inflate and then deflate, or cause hot flashes, or make it seem reasonable that I should bake and eat an entire cake for dinner.

Yes, I baked a cake on Thursday night and ate it for dinner.  Warm.  Unfrosted.  With milk.  Homemade and not cake mix.  Bill Cosby says that chocolate cake is good for a meal and he knows what he's talking about.

Not to mention that the bra that fit on Wednesday is loose today.  Today's breasts are deflated and a bit flappy.  Wednesday's breasts were perkily inflated and angry and sore.

Today my hormones are hungover after last weeks stupid lampshade wearing jello shot party and that means that all the water weight their shenanigans has made me put on is now running downhill. 

On one hand, this is good because I'm not bloated anymore and the pants I wore on Thursday are loose too.

On the other hand, I've spent much of the day in the bathroom with one of my cats violating my personal space by peeking in on the space between the toilet seat and the bowl.  They think peeing is fascinating business.

Did you know that I can tidy up my entire bathroom from my toilet?  No use sitting there mouthbreathing when you can multitask!  My faucets are shiny, my baseboards are dusted, my soap is de-haired and I've aligned the hems on my towels exactly.

How productive am I?  I could have read a magazine during constitutional after constitutional.  Instead my bathroom is magazine photo spread worthy. 

If only I could install a flush toilet in the kitchen.  Then I'd really have something.  I wouldn't go as far as to get one of those portable jobs on rolling casters though.  Those give people an entirely wrong impression even if your kitchen is spotless.

A friend of mine tells me that the hormone hell of her perimenopause lasted for ten years.  

She should have kept her mouth shut about that and just complimented me on how clean my grout is dammit.


  1. Yup, perimenopause can go on for a looooong time. I'm coming to the end of it. Wait for only gets more interesting. Ok. Worse. Every month is a new and interesting experience...
    Thanks for the laugh, though. I thought I was the only one who multitaked while on the toilet.

  2. I was with you until I found out that you baked the cake. I like batter. Haven't gotten salmonella yet.


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