I have a completely new appreciation for the old chestnut that Life is Not Fair. It goes like this–I spend 20 years of my adult life taking reasonably good care of my figure, trying to eat healthy, taking my vitamins, wearing my seatbelt and using deep conditioner once a week. Last week at age 44, I woke up one morning to discover that sometime in the middle of the night, someone had implanted a toss pillow in my abdomen.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s aching back.

After five months of two-week long periods, twice-a-month periods and periods that gush like Iguazu Falls, I’m forced to face the ugly truth. I’ve become a card-carrying member of The Perimenopause Club.  I have spent  every night of the past month channeling one of Nero’s human torches. Waking up drenched in sweat and feeling hotter than August in Dubai,  I roll over to find a ‘cool spot,’ then roll back after five minutes because the invisible flames are engulfing my hapless body once again. I rest, roll and repeat. Rest. Roll. Repeat. Rest. Roll. Repeat.

This blog will be my outlet, my coping mechanism, my alternative to devouring a pallet of Pirate’s Booty when the going gets especially tough.

It will also serve as my objective and sometimes expletive-laden log (children, you’ve been warned!) as I field test every natural remedy known to womankind for curing mood swings, night sweats, hot flashes, erratic periods, memory lapses, how-low-can-you-go libido and symptoms I’ve yet had the pleasure of experiencing.

Enjoy the journey, girls. And remember,

“Fasten your bath towels. It’s going to be a sweaty night.” (What Bette Davis really meant to say in ‘All About Eve.’)