Puberty? Not so much.

Great, I’m going through puberty again. I swear I feel the same in a lot of ways, at least as much as I remember. But at 50 years old it’s not like everything is new again, know what I mean?

My armpits are suddenly stinky. My periods are flaky. On and off I’m horny as a two-peckered billy goat. When I’m not horny, I’m crying. Nice! Sometimes there isn’t much transition between the two. Sometimes they happen at the same time.

At any given moment I could be saying, “OMG, those kids are so cute BOO HOOOOO!” with tears streaming down my cheeks and then I’ll get pissed off because I’m so emotional, followed by a quick look around for my husband because getting laid or at least masturbating has suddenly become a priority. It’s been fun at work.

I’ll be watching The Dog Whisperer and Cesar gets a bad dog to lay down and “BOOHOOOOHOOOHOOO HE’S SO GOOD BOOHOOHOOOHOO” and then, “Hey, Bob, what are you doing right now?”

Oh, and don’t forget, suddenly the metabolism slows to a crawl. I might as well pour the damned [insert booze of choice here] on my damned belly.

How many years does this shit last, you say? I looked it up on Kaiser’s website. Two to eight years, people. This could be a long ride on an unbalanced cart.

Please, God, let me get through the Project From Hell at work without killing someone or storming out and PLEASE don’t let the project drag out longer than the menopause.
Where did that mellow IT Manager person go?

My advice to the people entering this dark realm: Be afraid. Be very afraid.