Hi all!
I hope you’ve all been enjoying the lovely weather we’ve been having. I’ve only gone and got bloody COVID… AGAIN!! Ffs! I think that’s 8 or 9 times now, I’ve actually lost count! 😒
Anyway, needless to say, I feel like utter shite and not really in the mood for writing a lot. Luckily I wrote a rather funny little account of a ‘menopause moment’ I had about a week ago, so I’ve decided (rather lazily) to just share that with you today instead. Enjoy! 😊
One hot afternoon in June
With a sudden extreme1 temperature rise!
I’m getting ready for school pick up and once again I have left it to the last minute to run around like a blue-arsed fly and get in a fluster… why do I never learn?! 🤦🏽♀️ School is precisely 11 minutes away from our house by car (not actually accessible by foot – I mean it must be, but it feels like it would take hours). Anyway, that’s 11 minutes and pick up is at 3:15pm… so I need to leave the house at 3pm right? Leaving 4 spare minutes for that weird time zone between house and car, where 30 seconds seems to turn into 12 hours – what is it with that?! 🤔
This all seems logical, does it not? But no, I forget, I am middle aged and my joints are buggered, so I’m not at all as limber as I used to be. I also always forget that moving from the spot I have been wedged into for the last 3 hours, leads to me immediately and desperately needing a wee! Then, hang on what’s this… the sun is out and its hot outside… Nooooooooo! I have been blissfully immersed in the breezy, shaded indoors. This combined with a severe lack of movement, I have been a comfortable/bordering-on-chilly, perfect temperature for a perimenopausal lady.
A quick piss, that luckily didn’t turn into the sudden need for a shit, and I’m running (sorry, hobbling) upstairs and frantically changing into something cooler. It is at this point that my gorgeous other half (working from home) decides to engage in some kind of urgent regurgitation of information, about the cinema that’s recently opened in the near-by town. That’s great babe, but fuck me you pick your times! I thought that perhaps the huffing, puffing and flapping around muttering things MAY have been a clear sign that I had other more pressing things to be concerning myself with. So, I went with the upfront and honest approach (something I’ve been trying out lately – I recommend it) and said, “I’m really not listening honey, can you tell me about it later?” To which he replies, “Yes, I shall stay mute” – which immediately brings a smile to my face and (realising why I’m flapping – at last 🙄) he plants a comforting kiss on my beetroot face, as he proceeds to put the milk back in the fridge.
Aaaaah, the fridge, one of my favourite spots… the blissful cold breeze hits me with a wave of calm and tranquillity, that immediately soothes my burning blood stream. Icepack… I must take the icepack on the school run! Now, where’s that cover for it gone?... It’s 3:10pm by the way.
I hope you enjoyed this tiny “little insight” into my life as a middle-aged, perimenopausal woman… and perhaps gained some sympathy for my extremely patient, kind and loving boyfriend! Who, by the way, has been caring for me and my children without hesitation, since this vile virus hit me (yet again) a few days ago. 💛