Cuckoo-Bananas busy, but there’s this…

So as I’m up to my armpits in rock opera, I don’t have a lot of spare time, so I thought I’d post this from June:

 Eggshells Under Their Feet

Yesterday morning I awoke in the midst of another horrific hot
flash.  Stumbling and growling all the way down the stairs – David and
Rissa’s eyes got really big as I stomped my way into the kitchen. I was fanning my face with my hands and flapping my arms to get air into my
armpits.

“I’m not even going to ask,” I said

“If it’s hot in here?” David replied.

“Yes, I’m not asking, because…”

“It’s not hot,” Rissa cheerfully piped up.  “It’s just you.”

“Awesome!  That is just freaking awesome!!!”  I open the freezer and grab a velcro ice pack and strap it around my neck.

“Interesting look,” said David,
ignoring the laser beams coming out of my eyes.  He then whispered, “Are
you going for an auto-erotic asphyxiation type look?”  I growled at him.

“I
am only  44 years old,” I griped, as I attempted to start my coffee.  “44 YEARS OLD!!!  My Mom had hot flashes until she was 60!!!  You could have to
live with THIS (I point violently to myself, drawing a wide, erratic circle around my head) for another SIXTEEN years!!!”  I grab the soy milk and my hazelnut flavouring.  The mug is warm.  “THIS MUG IS TOO WARM TO HOLD!!!”

Rissa
then giggled, which let me know that David must have done something
behind my back.   
“WHAT???  What did he do?  Did he just make a ‘she’s crazy’ gesture?!?”

“Nope,
not at all.  Un-unh.  Nope.”  Both of them looking all sweet and
innocent.  David has the decency to look chagrined before admitting “I
just raised my eyebrows like this.”  He demonstrates.  It’s the ‘Oh boy, fasten your seatbelts’ look.  I do my best not to bludgeon him.

“How about I make you an iced capp?  Would that help?”  He moved swiftly out of my arm’s reach.

“Maybe,”
I pouted.  Then I realized what he was offering.  “Yes please.  (sigh)  David, you just don’t understand.  I can’t do this to you guys for another 16
years.  You’ll lose your minds.  You can’t be walking on eggshells all
that time.  That’s not fair to you!  I am considering hormone
replacement.  This (again another  finger circling my skull for emphasis), is making me consider HRT!!!  It’s not supposed cause as much cancer now, but I can’t be on hormone replacement for SIXTEEN years!  That’s just asking for bad shit to happen to my body!!!  I have enough bad shit happening to my body already!!”

It
was at that point that Rissa led me to the kitchen table, sat me down
and patted me on my arm in a gesture of placation.  David then put the
homemade iced capp into my hand.  It was cool and delicious and took my
mind off the volcano in my torso.

What if I commit major crimes before I actually make it to Menopause?  This is only
PERI-Meonopause – and already I’m pretty much out of my mind.  Can I
make it through another 16 years?  Will I be able to use it as an excuse
in court?  Like, for when I murder someone when they look at me funny or drive slowly in front of me or chew with their mouth open?!?   The only upside to jail is that the metal bars will proabably be cool when I bang my head on them.