My breasts are sore. And not in that great night of passion and the soreness brings a smile to your face the next day when you think of it kind of sore. I wish. No, my breasts are sore for no good reason. No good reason at all.
If that wasn’t bad enough, my face is broke out and I’m bloated. I had one of those feeling fat and ugly days today. All blasted day. And that’s never a good thing.
Sore breasts. Broke out face. Bloated. Fat. Ugly. Getting the idea? Yeah. Pretty much sucks.
And I’ve noticed that I keep hearing the strangest sound. It’s almost like it’s been following me around. Kinda like a grrrrrrr sound. And then I realized what it might be. I’m feeling irritable. Very irritable. I’m starting to think that it may actually be me growling. You know, that low kind of growl an animal makes right before it attacks. Weird huh.
The only thing I’ve noticed that I haven’t had a problem with today is crying. But don’t put the tissue away yet because even something as silly as a commercial on tv can change that in an instant. Trust me on this one. It’s happened before.
I would almost swear that I am pregnant. But I’m not. How do I know that I’m not pregnant? Well, that obvious. I haven’t been exposed. Not for a while now. Not even a little bit exposed. Which I guess could partially explain my irritability.
They say that a woman is officially in menopause when she has one full year without periods. So, this month, I am official. I’m just not sure that my body understands this menopause thing yet. It seems to keep thinking I’m supposed to have pms. Which I thought meant you were going to start your period. But I’m not. There is no premenstrual going on here. So what’s up with that?
There was an interesting article on NBCNews.com the other day entitled Menopause Cause? It May Well Be Men, Scientist Say. In the article, the author says that in trying to unravel one of nature’s great mysteries of why women go into menopause, controversial new research suggests that ancestral males’ preference for younger women actually set the stage for the evolution of menopause. Basically, men are to blame.
Now that’s funny. And as much as I would like to have someone to blame for the way I am feeling, I just can’t bring myself to blame men. I like men. Some are even my friends. And they get into enough trouble on their own. It just seems wrong to also blame men for something like menopause. They might actually find themselves with a riot of very sore breasted, broke out, bloated, angry, possibly crying women on their hands. I can’t even imagine the devastation that kind of riot could cause.
The unflinching optimist in me keeps saying that things will get better. And my body will get the hang of this menopause thing eventually. Hopefully, sooner rather than later. And, as I like to say, it could always be worse. At least no one has died. Just to be safe though, I would advise you to use caution. You might want to stay clear if you hear that low growling sound nearby. I’m afraid it could be me.