At my appointment last week, my doctor welcomed me into the wonderful world of perimenopause.
So what does this mean?
Other than the fits of tears several times a month, I don’t think there’s anything else to look forward to other than the fact that I’m getting old and my biological clock is in it’s final stages.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve rarely, if ever, complain about getting old. I usually laugh about it because getting old is fun and I’ve got great role models to show me how fun it really is.
Yesterday was what I’ve nicknamed a “sad hormone” day.
My campus persona is usually one of a very strong and emotionally-detached woman. Not mean and definitely not uncaring. More like “pleasant” and “fun to be around.” I don’t bring my rest-of-the-world problems with me to work. Even when I’m having a “sad” day, I can pretty-much keep my emotions in check and no one is the wiser.
We had a really good, really fun faculty meeting yesterday morning. When it was over and I was on my way to the Education Shoppe to buy some borders to complete my bulletin boards, I broke down into a huge puddle of tears.
I called hubby … just to hear his voice (and to cry some more).
It started raining while we were on the phone. And hubby said he felt bad, but he had a professional question to ask me. Don’t know what it was about him asking his question, I seemed to feel better. I answered his question, we said our goodbyes, and I started crying again.
My afternoon was NOT as pleasant as my morning … long meetings, a/c in the building went out, and my files … my precious, impeccably organized files … the files that I guard with my life … the files that I asked my ladies-in-waiting to pull information from for me the other day … were in such horrid disarray … that when I went to pull a file to work in and couldn’t find it because it was misfiled, along with all of the other files in that particular drawer,
Died of embarrassment, maybe?