Change on the horizon and my excuse for everything

Friends, forgive me. It has been 7 days since my last confession…er, uh, blog post.

Never fear, however, because I have a very good reason...er, uh…excuse… for my slackness.

And, I might add, that it is such a fine reason/excuse that I’m going to be claiming it for every single one of my shortcomings over the next 10 years or so. No, really. Seriously.

Are you ready for this?

I can sum it up in one word.

Ok, now.

Here goes.

Menopause.

There. I said it. Out loud.

I haven’t actually had a hot flash yet. The cycle continues without interruption. The closest I come to having a night sweat is the warmth I experience from piling on too many clothes and blankets because the thermostat is set on, well, cold.

I may not technically be there yet, but I must be close.

I have one defining symptom that has me convinced and it is the fact that what used to work for me no longer does.

I used to be able to control how my body reacted, to some degree anyway. The whole diet and exercise thing used to work. It doesn’t any more. I promise. My fat does what it wants to. It now has a mind of its own. It had to, because I seem to have lost mine.

A solid 8 hours of sleep used guarantee my bright rise and shine morning self. Now, getting out of bed in the morning is the last thing I want to do first thing in the morning, no matter how many hours of sleep I’ve had. I need a nap. Now.

I used to be inspired by a good book because it would always increase my yearning to read more. Now, I have a hard time even finishing a book. I just can’t seem to concentrate on it for any length of time. I think they call it brain fog.

I used to get so absorbed working on a creative project that I would lose track of time. This past weekend I spent what seemed like hours in Michael’s craft store pouring over all the possibilities, then leaving the store empty handed because when I actually considered putting all that time and effort into something “homemade,” I grew weary just thinking about it.

I just can’t seem to do it anymore.

The other side of it is, I find myself doing things that I used to would not have been caught dead doing.

Like forgetting to mail the bills. I have never been a math person. The checkbook has always been my albatross, therefore, I was extra careful and diligent with it. Now, instead of crying over not being able to reconcile it, I just ignore it. Since I can’t concentrate on words or numbers for any length of time, I put it out of my mind completely. That seems to alleviate my stress.

I’ve also eaten Cocoa Pebbles. I don’t even really like chocolate all that much, but recently when I compared the labels on the Cocoa Pebbles box and the box of my standard wheat and oat cereal box I discovered that the difference in calories, fat grams, and sugar content was teensy-weensy, teeny tiny, minimal. So, I ate the Cocoa Pebbles because they made me feel like a kid instead of a fiber-eating geriatric. Do you think that’s why I keep gaining weight instead of losing it?

I have been late. I used to hate to be late. For anything. I wanted to be the first one there, not the last one. I never understood “fashionably late.” I was always the early bird. Now, at least once a day I’m late to something. It’s usually work. Which might have something to do with my inability to get out of bed any more.

So there it is.

I’m not the same person I used to be. My stamina and motivation is waning.

Who knows what or who I will become by the time this is all over.

There’s no telling what I will eat or read. Or not.

Maybe I’ll be able to stay awake and be the all-nighter kind of girl that I never was in college. That might be fun.

Whatever trouble I get myself into, I’m blaming menopause. From now on.

Then Jesus said to his disciples: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? Luke 12:22-26