Quote of the day: “My back is killing me like it’s been SURREPTITIOUSLY jumped on by a five-year old sausage eating Polish kid all night.” – Me

Notanotherharpingonaboutturningthirtypost this is. Ever wondered if you may be entering menopause early? I have. I have also worried about numerous late night/early morning self-diagnosed rare disorders and diseases ranging everything from psychiatric to disturbing physiological disorders. I blame it on boredom, the internet and sleeping (not sleeping) alone.

As of late, however I have made a few disturbing discoveries of the body I thought finished off with all this weird nonsense when I turned 20. These discoveries, sadly, are based on cold hard evidence, and despite over-active tweezing (the kind that require warming up), cannot be denied. When there was nothing wrong with me, the internet was always willing and able to supply me with answers…however, now that I have some real problems to fix, I’m terrorised time and time again by the same answer. Hormones! There’s nothing you can do about it!

I spend more time and energy now, than ever before to look like I’m a girl, and it’s real work. I’m worried that in a few year’s time I may have to start wearing a gender specific sign around my neck. What do I do? What do other women do?

I try to exercise like my life depends on it (hey, perception is relative). I try to eat healthily, take gender specific supplements, dress in gender specific clothes, take comfort in my beautician who assures me that so many women my age come to her to whisk away the same unsightly horrible things that I am. I walk out, glowing (burning) and break out 2 days later like a 15 year old after a bad break-up accompanied by a doughnut and fanta binge.

I punish myself for my gluttony by running/ crunching/stretching/swimming until it burns and then some until I’m nauseous and then walk home groaning with a large spoon of chocolate mousse in my mouth minutes later. I shamefully stuff my face with the contents of the fridge, slouching in the dim light of the fridge like a rabid bear. I don’t even LIKE chocolate! I don’t like chocolate!!! SOB!

If nature plans on turning me into a man, I want the added benefits. Running 10K’s without trying, fighting to gain weight, no need for pesky, expensive inefficient jogging bras, and the right to belch in front of my friends in public places and never having to shave my legs ever again. EVER.

image sourced from: crazyrxman.blogspot.com

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