Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Flashing Hot at 29

Well. 28 and 11 months really. But who's counting.

I thought hot flashes were not supposed to start until menopause? It's October. It's freezing outside, and here I am dreaming of ice cream and for the love of GOD someone get me a cold cloth for the back of my neck!

We got our new company sweaters at work last week. Being a generally bad housekeeper, I haven't done my laundry, so today looked like a good day to try out the sweater. This is the part where I tell you it's a very pretty shade of blue, and made from Arctic Fleece. It fits just perfect, but is not so large that one could wear multiple layers underneath... so I of course, did not. Hold Please... the sweat is dripping in my eyes... there. That's better. Anyway, I'm wearing my new sweater, in a lovely shade of blue, at work today. I suppose it's a moderate sort of temperature. No one else seems to be swealtering, but I feel as though someone has wrapped me in a heating blanket and left me for dead. I imagine this is what a potatoe feels like when you wrap it in tin-foil and place it on the barbeque. Only without the pleasant cooking smell.

My co-worker suggested I take the sweater off, to which I blushed... or I would have blushed if I had not already been red-faced from extreme blood-pressure brought on by a spiking body temperature. While sitting in my office naked is a pleasant thought for my internal equilibrium, I'm sure there must be SOMETHING in the harrassment policy which forbids such a thing. The dress code for sure.

Currently I have my face pressed against the cool wood of my desk for a small measure of releif. It feels nice but is making typing difficult. I end up retyping the same sentences over and over as most come out looking like this ---> I ejd up typng het same sentnces ver andover as mos t come out lookkking like ths. It's very hard to type whilst your face is pressed against a desk. I wonder if there's a record for that. Perhaps I could become famous! But I digress.

It's five-oh-eight. Going home to burn the sweater and do something that makes me feel young.

Happy Wednesday.

5 comments:

Gaston Studio said...

You poor thing but don't do any of that hormone therapy stuff, it's bad for you!

Jinksy said...

Lots of sythetic fabrics make me feel like that - not hot, necessarily, but claustrophobic!

Carolina said...

And now we know why a sweater is called exactly thát!

I'm so glad you're back. Thanks for all your comments on my posts. You never fail to make me laugh. I'm glad I'm back too ;-)

Jewels said...

Gaston - I asked for a drug to get rid of the hormones completely, but apparently that means a hysterectomy, and possible brain surgery to remove my pituitary gland, so perhaps I'll just burn the sweater.

Jinksy - claustrophobic for sure! Who invented the turtle-neck anyway? (And Why is it called that?)

Caro - I'm glad you're back too. It's tooo quiet when you're away.

Madame DeFarge said...

Can't stand wearing wool next to my skin. Brings me out in a sweat rash. You have my deepest sympathy.

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