A heap of weep

Good day to you wonderful readers.  I am grateful for your interest, kindness, support, your help, and the letters I receive validating menopause as a functional disorder.

val·i·date

1. To declare or make legally valid.

2. To mark with an indication of official sanction.

3. To establish the soundness of; corroborate.

We need to move on this.  Can you picture me before Congress, wild hair, mascara running from tears, pounding my hand of crooked fingers, swearing like a rap video.  Trying hard to refrain from climbing the table to grab a silk tie and twisting it around some smug hypocrite's neck.  It would be corroborative evidence in making my case.  And as I walk out, head held high, Elvis would be singing You'll Never Walk Alone in the background.

It all started with my new linen order and trying to get the color adjusted close to my prior fabric, which did NOT resemble what I saw in baby Matt's pants at the party.  Drives me nuts to order the same color and there is no consistency. Using the walnut dip did nothing because yellow is invincible. Remember to buy blue dye today.  I'm finally getting out on the ice packed side streets and skating rink parking lots.  The van in front of me is from our local pet cemetery, obviously going to pick up a deceased furbaby.  That started the memories of when it came to my home, and back to the loss of our first Lab who suffered terribly because of her vet, then memories of my dad's suffocation because of his clueless doctor.  So rage once again had me shaking inside while weeping outside.  My first store was Walmart.   Walking from my car, I see a Cadillac Escalade pull into the handicapped spot. Out comes two young women, neither handicapped, and eight children under five.  It's starting to build.  As I loaded my bags' handles over my arms in the self checkout and started to walk out, I passed the little service desk at the end.  My hair was falling over the side of my face - that did it.   I sent my bags crashing to the floor, asked the clerk for scissors, and lopped off the offending hunk. Not many customers throw their merchandise down in a hissy fit to cut their hair, and I'll bet they have new rules regarding scissors.  Next stop, JoAnn's for blue Rit.  They moved the display.  I'm trying to stay calm, up and down each aisle.  Customers throughout the store then heard, "WHERE THE HELL IS THE RIT?".  Purchased a dozen storage containers for an organization attempt, later found a 20% off coupon I had planned to use but the Rit fit trumped.  Costing more $$ is now involved and I'm on an unstoppable course. On to the pet store for brat food.  A girl on her cell phone, relaying a crying friend's pleas for help because her house had no heat and laughing about it, blocked the aisle with her cart.  The insensitive bitch wouldn't move.  I said excuse me!  Nothing.  With one shove, I sent her cart about 25 feet.  As I turned and looked at her, she took a step back.  Next to JCP, where I planned on using my $10 reward on 2 sweatshirts.  Where the hell is it?  I just printed it!  Did it fall out at the other store?  Slam the hangers back onto the display enough to make it wobble.  Last stop was McDonald's for 2 cups of coffee. While getting my money, I see the JCP reward that I failed to see in multiple searches.  Steam coming from me is not related to the weather.  They know me at McD's, but this kid was new.  I opened the lid to check the drink and then told him to fill the damn cup.  It's funny how deep your voice gets when your teeth are clenched.  He'll remember me next time.  I pulled safely into the garage, threw all my packages out of the car and left them there, came inside and baked cake and cupcakes, ate them hot.  Everyone experiences what I encountered, feels the sadness, gets angry, but the van started the menomotions and there was no going back.  They aren't easily ignored, their edges are sharp and barbed, sticking in me, not wanting to let go.  It's like I become extremely sensitive yet angered at the same time, wanting to pick up and toss a car while falling into a heap of weep.  I used to be reasonable. Sharp. Diplomatic. Patient (within reason).  Now I can't remember the word I want, where I left my scissors, the name of my friend's street.  I have trouble staying calm during a debate, get unreasonably upset at small nuisances, cry when a baby cries, and get overly emotional at sadness (or some commercials).  Hot flashes have finally become less intense, less frequent, and tolerable.  And it's not every day that becomes an emotional coaster, but when it's triggered, the ride builds speed and lasts all day!!  I've always had a temper, but not this type of rage which has me torn between crying and throwing.  Maybe that conflict can be managed and choosing one or the other would be less upsetting.  That calls for reasoning.  Ain't gonna happen.

These are the colors I chose for Eliza Pomeroy to use on Copper Penny linen.  I would show you the design, but I can't find it.  Ann Wragg, first runner-up, may take the crown from Eliza if she doesn't fulfill her duties. The ups and downs of yesterday are upsetting, but the memory problems, misplaced items, lack of patience, and indecisiveness, are the most annoying symptoms of this disorder.  And with that in mind, I don't want to offer the planned gift in case it doesn't materialize, so the upcoming post announcing the giveaway will be for a gift certificate.  If the pincushion box is made in time and you would prefer a choice, we'll do that.  Don't enter yet!  I will have a separate post with details, when I calm down and think clearly.  Until then, thanks so much for reading my menotale.  I think it does help to write it out, because I got a chuckle when I remembered the pet store girl's look of fear, and can imagine how bitchy I looked to others.  But menopause also allows an arrogance, so I don't give a rat's tail what they thought.

 

Take care and finish the weekend with a smile.