We had our Scottish Summer on Saturday morning. Summer as a menopausal woman is, shall we say, a little more challenging that Summer as a non menopausal woman.
It started well – I did wake early which is unusual (I sleep so much better since moving into the spare room. I have had a number of messages from women since that post saying they don’t know if their partner would like it if they moved but they deep down love the idea of their very own room. So my tip – tell your partner that if you are rested you will be much more ‘up for it’ – and eat their dust as they speed to Ikea to get everything needed to make the spare room yours!).
Early waking is a problem for the menopausal woman… sleep is oh so precious at this ‘time of change’. Bastarding birds do not respect this with their chirpy cheep cheeping, full of joy, at 5am. Finally found a pair of old earplugs from when I used to sleep in the Snoring room and fell back asleep. Only to be woken half an hour later with the feckin sun determinedly pushing its way through the black out blinds and curtains.
Feck it I thought – I will get up and enjoy the joys of our Summer as it is so very fleeting and may be gone by 11am. Into the bathroom and the usual cursory check in the magnifying mirror. OH MY GOD!!! The sun streams through to reveal a chin to rival Desperate Dans. A good ten minutes with tweezers follows – it’s not going to be long before I have to graduate to bloody gillette!
Then a quick shower. About to get out but then another brain fog moment – can’t remember if I washed my hair while in there – so wash again just to be sure. Then the tyranny of trying on the Summer clothes from the attic and realising that everything has shrunk again this year. Find a baggy maxi dress that is lovely and bright and makes me look like a hippie but will do as only alternative is to cut a hole in the duvet cover and wear it.
Find my sandals and wipe the dust off them. Bend down over my tummy (which takes some effort) to strap them up and gasp as I realise I have hairy toes!! This is some kind of sick joke by the menopause hormones – just as the hairs on my head start to thin so much that I am seriously thinking of taking my mums advice to ‘have a lovely perm darling it will thicken it up – Sadie will do it for a fiver – she isn’t qualified but that is just a bit of paper it will look so much better than the your current flat lifeless style’ – that extra hair sprouts up just about everywhere else. So deal with my toes and make a mental note (that I will instantly forget) to book a pedicure. My feet, if not my body, WILL be summer ready.
And it is only half six. I decide to surprise my partner with a healthy breakfast of fresh fruit and healthy juice and yoghurt in the garden. It is about a half hour walk to Tesco so I will get my exercise in and arrive just as it opens. Sweet dog agrees this is a great idea and jumps for joy. I put on my sunhat and sunglasses and look pretty cool though I say it myself.
Twenty minutes later and chub rub has arrived with avengence. Two naked thighs rubbing together and they are making a fire. Ouch. FFS. I remember watching something on morning telly about creating a thigh gap – it involved leaning slightly back and pushing your knees apart as if you were riding a horse. I try that and it does work though perhaps I do look a little ‘special’ to anyone walking past.
I get to Tesco determined to be healthy and regain my youthful figure. I have given up slimming world but as I bought a pass for ten million years I still am on the Facebook page – a cursory glance this morning revealed a suggested breakfast (and this is no joke) of a brussel sprout omelette so I think I made the right decision. I am thinking that maybe I will become a vegetarian or gluten free or maybe lactose free instead. Something like that. So I go a walk down the intolerant aisle and peruse the shelves. It is a little confusing so I just get chickpeas as I know for definate veggies like them and my fruit. And some mini magnums because they are tiny and reduced and I convince myself I can manage to just have one a night and not the full box in one day. Then I realise I’ve forgotten a feckin bag. The mountains and mountains of feckin environmentally friendly bags at £2 each that sit behind the door and in my car ready to be used remain there as always. I cannot buy plastic bags ever since seeing Blue Planet and the Mummy Whale that would not let go of its baby that had died due to suffocating with our waste plastic. My hormones take over and I start to well up remembering it – I wave away the shop assistants look of concern. I buy another £3.50 hessian bag to add to my collection. I then remember I was sad the night before watching I, Daniel Blake and the lady with no money for tampons. So as I have had no period for a couple of months (could this finally be it….) I buy some ‘feminine protection’ to fling in the foodbank bucket. . Go out to get Sweet Dog and realise I have forgotten the feckin yogurt. Back in again while Not so Sweet Dog goes ballistic thinking she has been abandoned. WOOF WOOF WOOF YOWL YOWL – it’s not a great alarm call I appreciate – but I am sure the occupants of the nearby houses would not want to waste the day by sleeping.
And finally I head home doing my John Wayne walk to keep my thighs apart. I think of how I will lay breakfast out in the garden and how lovely it will be to sit in the sun with our healthy breakfast. I arrive back to that amazing smell of sizzling bacon. Oh my days!!! I love my partner. Smiling above the frying pan full of lovely lovely thick smoked back bacon with a pile of white bread thick with lurpack at the side just waiting. I put the fruit in the veg rack where it will stay til it goes off and fruit flies start to circulate and grab the ketchup. I’ve had a good walk so I am due a wee treat. I can always go vegetarian another time.
Then the devil gets a hold of me -and I post a picture of my big bacon sandwich and the magnums on our slimming word page just under the aubergine and sweet pea wrapped in a lettuce leaf with the simple caption ‘Feck It – You only live once’.
Which is true. But if you do it right – once is enough!