I called out menopausal the other day.
I said “sick,” of course, because my supervisor isn’t even 30 yet, and if some of my elders look at me like I’m a freak when I try to describe what I’m going through, a kid sure ain’t gonna get it.
My favorite is when people go, “Oh, you’re too young to be going through menopause!” 🙄
To be accurate, it’s called peri-menopause, a kind of living purgatory where you ride the insane “change of life” roller coaster for 7-10 years while still needing to buy tampons. There’s no official age when it hits or boilerplate experience of the impact, although the list of possible symptoms will put hair on your che…sorry, I mean your chin.
So you can see why it’s just easier to say “sick.”
The way I have been feeling between the 18th and 26th days of every monthly cycle over the past year or so, perimenopause might as well be the bubonic plague.
There are days I feel so mentally scattered and emotionally unstable that I have no business putting myself in close proximity to other people, for fear of some “Temple of Doom” shit going down. Those people might be counted on to provide a reference for future job prospects!
Jen Wielgus Journalism 