Crying, Whining, Candy Wrappers, and Stretchy Pants (aka Tuesday)

Quick update on the last six or so months:  had the hysterectomy, survived the hysterectomy, still crazy.   Just to clarify for everyone (because I get this question A LOT), the hysterectomy was performed for reasons relating to physical pain.  I kept my ovaries which means that my perimenopause roller coaster will continue on its terrifying, scream-inducing path.  Having surgery was the best decision I've ever made.  I still have moments of wishing I hadn't had to cut my child-bearing career short, but then my kids wake up and I'm okay with it.

I'm still crazy.  Most of the time it's the fun kind of crazy, but occasionally it gets mixed with an unhealthy dose of do-we-know-where-all-the-sharp-implements-are crazy.   Usually my bouts of hormonal Hulk rage end quickly.  It's the simmering anger and irritation that can sometimes last for days (note:  MB would like me to change "days" to "months or years").  I will have a week where I get on my own nerves.  I'll be bitchy and whiny and just generally irritating to even my own endless patience (no, MB, I will not change "endless" to "nonexistent").  These are the times when I cry because we're out of milk and going to the store seems just like climbing Mt. Everest on a Tuesday whim.  I send emails I live to regret OR I just ignore everyone.  I eat really, really unhealthy foods and allow Ginger (in case you missed the earlier explanation, Ginger is my perimenopausal alter-ego---- she's certifiably insane.  And possibly homocidal) to talk me out of running.  It's just an all-around mess of crying, whining, candy wrappers, and stretchy pants.  

I've tried to convince my family that it will get better.... one day.  Let's face it--- none of us are buying that.  Hopefully the good days outnumber the bad, the running days outnumber the not running days.  And hopefully-- we all live long enough to laugh about the times Mommy cried because someone else ate the last Moon Pie.