If, when getting ready for an evening out, and after you squint at your face in the mirror to bring your lipsticked visage into focus you are shocked to see you look a bit like a drag queen… And, after removing the aforesaid lipstick you look ten years younger… You’re — say it with me — perimenopausal.
If you don’t give a flying f—featherduster for the fact you’re repeating topics, you’re perimenopausal.
If, when presented with the latest and greatest on who is sleeping with whom, your immediate and sincere response is some version of, “Isn’t that nice for them, dear?” You’re perimenopausal.
And, if the prospect of going up to bed early with your husband, to read, fills your heart with unbounded joy…
How are you, my darlings?
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