Aquajock
Cathlete
Speaking of hormonal changes:
As I've rounded the corner into year 44, I've encountered a wonderful PHEE-nom known as perimenopause, replete with its variable ETAs for Olde Aunt Flo, longer and more intriguing Pre-Aunt-Flo Syndromes, a passing acquaintance with night sweats, and these past four months . . .
(drum roll)
My ta-tas have gone up from a Size A-Minus to a Size-B And Counting.
*wtf?*
I gotta tell ya, ladies (gents, skip this post), this is seriously weirding me out. From pre-pubsescence on, I was always in my sister's shadow in the jubblies department, and when I quit drinking back in 1987 and lost a ton of weight as a result, what had been inconsequential became downright negligible. And I was cool with that. The letter "A" had always ruled my life, and that being my jubblie-size was quite harmonic. And now . . . I have these . . . these . . . these THINGS under my collar bones that I don't quite know what to do with. I notice it a lot especially when I do push-ups.
DH, I might add, is doing nothing to help me with my dilemma. Every time I turn around now he's standing there with a loopy grin on his face and his hands poised like catchers' mitts. He says, "Dolly, you're the only person I know who can be happy about going bald and complain about going up a size you-know-where!"
Sigh. It sucks to be me.
A-Jock
As I've rounded the corner into year 44, I've encountered a wonderful PHEE-nom known as perimenopause, replete with its variable ETAs for Olde Aunt Flo, longer and more intriguing Pre-Aunt-Flo Syndromes, a passing acquaintance with night sweats, and these past four months . . .
(drum roll)
My ta-tas have gone up from a Size A-Minus to a Size-B And Counting.
*wtf?*
I gotta tell ya, ladies (gents, skip this post), this is seriously weirding me out. From pre-pubsescence on, I was always in my sister's shadow in the jubblies department, and when I quit drinking back in 1987 and lost a ton of weight as a result, what had been inconsequential became downright negligible. And I was cool with that. The letter "A" had always ruled my life, and that being my jubblie-size was quite harmonic. And now . . . I have these . . . these . . . these THINGS under my collar bones that I don't quite know what to do with. I notice it a lot especially when I do push-ups.
DH, I might add, is doing nothing to help me with my dilemma. Every time I turn around now he's standing there with a loopy grin on his face and his hands poised like catchers' mitts. He says, "Dolly, you're the only person I know who can be happy about going bald and complain about going up a size you-know-where!"
Sigh. It sucks to be me.
A-Jock