The Golden Years

I’ve known for quite some time that I’ve been rapidly aging. Just recently, I noticed I’m not loosing weight like I used to. By “like I used to,” I mean I can no longer wake up to two sausage McMuffins and a cigarette, eat a super burrito for lunch and put myself to bed with a bowl of cookie dough ice cream and a Guinness. Up until a couple months ago, I seriously thought I was the type of person who just didn’t gain weight. Now I wonder if that “type of person” even exists. (And if they do, please point me in their direction so I can rip their greedy little eyeballs from their sockets and squish them between my toes). It sucks getting old, and the weight gain I can handle, but menopause at 22? This is ridiculous.

It’s horrifying going through menopause. I remember when I first learned that women actually “stopped getting their periods,” as my grandma put it when she found me rummaging through her drawers for tampons. And as weird as I thought that was, uptil now, not having a period was the beginning and the end of Menopause. Boy, was I wrong…

WTF! This thing shouldn’t even be allowed on the net! I stumbled upon it after experiencing severe hot flashes all day, and realizing I was in the early stages of premature menopause. Now I’m in a depressed state of hot flash hell.

I can do the math, my menopausal state is right on time. Most women develop it in their forties or fifties and live to be sixty or seventy; I develop it in my twenties and live to be thirty. Maybe that won’t be long enough for my mucus membranes to dry out.