Katy Perimenopause

A Guest Post

I was going to write to you today about asparagus and spring, and ENOUGH, but I think instead, I want to share a post written by my

good pal
constant companion
Current On-Board Plus-One, Katy Perimenopause.

(We’ll put a pin in enough - because that business is juicy.)

But Katy Perimenopause is having a Day here, (she’s hot then she’s cold, she’s yes then she’s no) and so let’s just let her say what she needs to say.

Let’s face it, she’s going to do what she wants anyway.

---

Hi you!

I’m Katy, and I am currently sitting here with my puppet Kara, who is wearing two cardigans.

Sometime during the time it takes to write this post, she will rip one off, then the other, and then sit here in a sleeveless top because her armpits need to breathe.

Just this week Kara and I were on a Zoom call and we noticed someone sporting a light vest, and so the last couple of mornings at 3 a.m., I’ve been waking Kara up and we look at vests on the Internet for a while.

Y’all - Should vests be the official clothing of the 10-15 years of Me?

This Is Taking Forever

I mean - did you know I lasted that long?

I remember dragging Kara to the doctor, back when she was in her 30s and the doctor doing some blood work and saying “you are definitely perimenopausal,” and Kara was like “oh no!” and the doc was like - no - I just mean you aren’t menopausal yet.

And she was like - whew - that’s good!

But knock-knock and who is there:

Me. Kate.

I was like, get ready to meet your deductible just to find out that this is a natural part of aging!

Still, every once in a while I wonder when exactly Menopause is going to take over, because here’s the thing - your girl has been working hard. I haven’t had a vacay in years.

My job is hard and the benefits are like - what? - I get to randomly make Kara’s skin itch uncontrollably out of nowhere?

I guess if I have a favorite thing about what I do, it’s how sometimes I wake Kara up in the middle of the night, and am all:

“Do you have enough cat carriers if there was a fire?”

And she’s like, Wait. What?

And I mean, then her anxiety takes over and stuff, but still - I’m basically working 24/7.

Sweat

That’s probably explains all the sweat I make. And let me tell you …

It’s a fragrance, friends.

Natural deodorant is a light suggestion.

Kara used to do these cute little speaking gigs, right? And she would get fancy tops from Stitch Fix, because even in her 30s, she needed someone else to dress her!

But ‘business’ shirts like that DO NOT breathe.

And so she would tell people - “I should just burn this shirt,” after a day of speaking, because, you know - #stresssweat.

But stress sweat is a JOKE compared to Me-Sweat.

First let’s talk volume:

I could fill a Honda with the amount of sweat I make in like either a week, or 15 minutes under the right conditions.

And Me-Sweat is special. It’s definitely ™©.

It’s my own little blend that I dreamed up with zero help from scientists because most of them are like - sorry - we’re fixing balding and ED right now.

(But I will tell you because we’re friends - I totally got my inspiration from a hot dog cart. Shhh.)

No Filter

That’s funny.

I was just all “Shhh,” but here’s the thing - I can make Kara tell people ANYTHING.

I get bored, ya know?

So I just have this little switch that I flip, and all of a sudden, Kara - who was so much better at fighting me off until recently, goes Beast Mode.

She is just like:

“You know what … I’m going to say it … the new Billy Joel video kinda freaks me out.”

And then she covers her mouth because in her house, you do not say anything negative about William Joel ever.

The Andersons won’t even speak negatively about “River of Dreams” or “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

These are very divisive songs. Friendships and marriages and business partnerships have ended over someone just casually saying:

“Don’t you think ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ is a little, I don’t know, gimmicky?”

And then it’s just a brawl in an Applebees.

But not the Andersons. They stand in strong support of everything that W. Joel has ever done. They loved “Vienna Waits for You” before Instagram did, K?

And so when Kara said she didn’t think she liked B.J.s comeback video, mouths and plates dropped.

So guess what I did?

I’ll give you a hint - I made even more liquid come out of her.

Don’t be gross.

I made her cry.

She used to basically never cry, but now she can be entirely liquified.

(She’s like a non-Newtonian fluid on her best days.)

We watched the thing about Jon Stewart’s dog this week, and she had to drink a full Watermelon Juice to rehydrate.

Those are like $4!

Speaking of which, I have taken over the entire cravings section of her brain.

Currently, I have her on a regimen of Watermelon Juice, Chocolate, Tea, Pills, Pasta, Cinnamon Toast, Almonds, VERY specific flavors of sparkling water, Popcorn, Peanut Butter and Cocoa.

And the cocoa and whipped topping she plops on there are dairy-free, because last year I was like - Nope to Dairy. 🪄

Again. I was just bored. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, she eats other things, but she doesn’t WANT them.

It’s so cute. Her family will be like, “What’s for dinner?” and she will say nothing because she fell asleep at 5 p.m. watching an episode of Chuck.

So Much Power

I mean, do NOT underestimate me.

The emails I send - scorching.

To quote Michael Scott: “I am not to be truffled with.”

Watch - I just made her think of truffles, and now she’s going to want chocolate so bad she won’t be able to do ANY work until she eats a handful of dark chocolate + puffed quinoa dairy-free pastel fake M&Ms.

(She can’t even eat regular M&Ms anymore! Ha!)

The one thing I let her get away with is chocolate-covered pretzels, but only when she has to say goodbye to her college kid and drive home.

(I’m not a Monster … usually.)

We head into a gas station and buy a bag, and she eats basically the whole thing on the way home and she has no idea why THAT’s fine, but all other dairy, even in tiny amounts, is verboten.

She pretty much has no clue what’s happening most days, and it’s so exhausting that she goes to bed around 8 pm.

It’s cute.

Like that’s going to help anything.

Hold on, she got up to get the quinoa chocolate thingies and now she’s …

Wait.

She’s taking off the cardigans …

But turning on the space heater in her office?

Who’s The Boss?

You know how on Who’s The Boss, it was always like Tony or Angela? Angela or Tony? It’s the 80s and we’re doing a role-reversal thing.

I will tell you who was really in charge - whoever was doing my job inside of Mona.

Because a woman stricken with The ‘Pause needs more care than a toddler after a birthday party.

They should make perimenopause handlers. Or maybe perimenopause nannies.

Otherwise, these midlife women are like little grenades covered in retinol and wearing giant panties.

Like right now:

Oh my goodness.

She’s putting the cardigans BACK ON.

And she has added an extra one!

(I’m teaching her a lot, really - like now she knows that you can pile on endless cardigans as long as not all the them have hoods.)

I’m Done, But I’m Not

OK - I’m done.

Thanks to Kara for “letting” me guest post here and thanks to you for reading, and I’m super sorry if you are currently hosting one of my sisters.

We’re a lot.

We’re sneaky and capable of pretty much anything.

Knees hurt?

That’s us.

Can’t find your glasses?

That’s us-squared because now you need glasses!

We’re not like “mean girls.”

We’re more like if you were being slowly poisoned by a loved one.

It’s mostly little stuff until you’re like: “Am I dying?”

Nope.

But then we send in our grandmas.

OK. We’ve gotta pee.

Again!

Bye!

Love,

Katy