Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

maybe I'm just getting old

I think I've reached a point where the hormones are just plain unfair.  They are beginning to wreak havoc with my already chaotic life.  Just today, after a miserable night spend in a cold, dark parking lot (across the street from a house that looked alarmingly like the one where Michael Meyers lived in the movie Halloween) I spent the bulk of my day sprawled across the sofa crying.  Why I was crying would appear to be the million dollar question.  The answer?

Hormones.

My hormones started working against me as we were standing around my locked vehicle in that parking lot last evening.  It was in the hour just before the sun went down, and we were attempting to break into the car because we suspected the keys might be inside.  As I watched him work the hanger into the door, I was thinking that my husband, should he ever decide he is tired of the high income IT field, could take up a life of crime.  The future car thief teenagers were unable to fish the hanger in to pull the lock button up despite having worked at it long before we arrived. 

Mike had the door open in a matter of minutes. 

The entire scenario reminded me of a moment from my past.  My sister had locked her keys in the car...something she has done many times since...and her now ex-husband spent the better part of an hour trying to "pop" the lock as my husband did so efficiently last night.  He worked at the window furiously (in more ways than one) until he finally got the door opened...just as she discovered the passenger door had been unlocked the entire time.  Her keys were in the ignition, safe and sound...right where she left them.

Mine were not.

My daughter had truly lost the keys somewhere along the road as she walked up and down the blocks with her friends. 

We picked up the search along the road again, retracing her steps until the sun had disappeared below the horizon and it was clear we would not find them.  And at the very moment we discovered that fact, I was riding the rollercoaster of PMS down the rickety, cavernous track to what could possibly be my death! (Because hormones are nothing if not dramatic.)

I arrived in the parking lot sometime just after seven and left sometime just before midnight.  That left nearly five hours for my hormones to work themselves up into a dramatic frenzy. 

A level of turbulence that could not be calmed simply overnight. 

I think I feel a little better now that more like twenty four hours have passed.  Twenty four hours and a bowl of ice cream that is. 

Ice cream and a really good cry...those are the only cures I'm aware of for raging hormones.  But feel free to share if you know anything else that works.  I figure I still have a few more days of this before it passes.  And I'll try anything if you think it might help!

Until the next time...I'll be eating a lot of ice cream!

 

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