Menopause Mad

That’s enough of this shit.  I’ve had it and I’m not dealing with it anymore.

There’s a situation at work between a woman on 1st shift (the bully) and a woman on 2nd shift (who takes the bully’s crap).  Both women work in the same department.

The bully tries to bully me, but I won’t allow it.  The woman on 2nd shift complains to me about being bullied, but isn’t willing to go to management.

Last week I was helping in another area and wasn’t helping the bully.  I am the floater on 2nd shift and I’m suppose to help in the area that needs the most help that day.  I feel I’m smart enough that I can figure in what area I need to help in, but the bully didn’t agree.   After the bully left, the 2nd shift lady told me that the bully was complaining to her about what I was doing.

That’s it.  I lost it.  That was the straw that broke the camels back.  Who in the hell does the bully is that she can tell me what to do?  She is no one and I definitely don’t have to listen to her.   I fumed the rest of the night.

The next day I went to my boss and asked her what my job responsibilities were.  She asked me why and I told her what was going on — that I was sick of the bully trying to boss me around,  that I wasn’t going to put up with anymore and that I was done dealing with the situation between the two women.  She listened to me rant and told me to continue to do what the bully didn’t think I should be doing.  For the rest of the night I barely talked to anyone and concentrated on doing my job.  I was so mad.

I was Menopause Mad!

Over the next couple of days I calmed down, but I was still mad.  I was mad at the bully for being a bully and I was mad at the 2nd shift woman for not standing up for herself, but beyond that I don’t know why I felt the way I did.   I just knew I was mad.   I knew that I had had enough and was sick of dealing with the whole situation.  I had hit my breaking point.

I was kind of embarrassed that I had reacted that way, but now both women know that I am not dealing with the situation anymore.  They both know where I stand and if that’s what had to happen to get to this point then that’s what needed to happen.

Menopause has made me more mouthy than I have every been in my life.  I can’t hold back my feelings.  If you piss me off you will definitely know it and you probably won’t forget it.   I don’t tolerate anyone’s crap anymore.

I don’t know where this Menopause Mad comes from.  It starts out with being angry and then it’s like a switch flips in me and I am PISSED off.  That’s it.  I’ve had enough.  I’m done.

This is so unlike me.  I used to be soft spoken and afraid to voice my opinion.  Not anymore.  I’m definitely not afraid to tell people how I feel.

Menopause gives us the guts to speak up and claim what is ours.  No excuses.  No holds barred.  It’s mine and I’m taking it.  You better give it to me or I’m going to be mad….

Menopause mad!





The 52 Lists Project

At the end of last year I ordered a book called The 52 Lists Project by Moorea Seal.  I bought it because I thought it was a plain book that you could write a list of what you wanted to accomplish every week of the year.  I thought that I could write weekly goals and at the year I could see what I accomplished.

The book, from the picture in a magazine, was hardcover and it was pretty.  I thought I could leave it on the coffee table and it wouldn’t be an eyesore.  Plus, it would be in front of me every day and easily accessible.

I am a lists person.  I make a list at work of what I want to get done after work and the next morning.  If I am running errands, I make a list a list of the places I need to go and what I need to do at each place or what I need to buy.  I know without the list I would forget to do/buy something.  I find the older I get the more forgetful I get so the list really helps.

The day the book came in the mail I ran out out to the mailbox and didn’t even wait til I was in the house to open it.  I was so excited to get started making my lists.  I held the book in my hand and I realized what I thought the book was about and what it really was about were two different things.

I stopped dead on the front step and stared at the cover.  It wasn’t a nice hardcover book to keep my lists in.   If it wasn’t a book to keep my lists in, what was it?

It is a lists book, but not to write your to do lists in.  It’s a beautiful book that makes you think of what is important.   For example — one week asks you to list the things that make your spirit feel free.    I wrote down — walks in the woods and on the beach, not being at work,  the weekends I spend at the trailer, our weekend trips to Las Vegas, writing, writing in my journal.  After making my list I realized that I wasn’t getting enough moments that made my spirit feel free and I needed to take steps to change this.

It makes you remember things you forget — successes you have had in your life, good times with family and friends and what makes you you.  It makes you think about your goals, the space you live in,  what direction you want your life to go in, what you enjoy doing and the way you life now.

For 52 weeks you are listing the positive things in your life.

I love the book.  It’s very uplifting and positive.  Plus, there is a Take Action step on bottom of every list page to give you a push to get you going.

I haven’t been very good at doing it every week.  I don’t know why.  It only takes fifteen or twenty minutes to do.  Maybe I’m not ready to look at that part of my life.  I don’t know.

I think in our fifties we need to start getting clear on who we are, what makes us tick and what we are put on this earth to do.  Our fifties are about taking the time to do what we love (if you’re not doing that already) instead of only making dollars.   It’s about getting rid of all of the stuff we hide behind and become our true selves.

It’s hard work, but definitely worth the effort.

I’m glad I bought the book.  I am a better person because of it.

Thanks Moorea for your beautiful book and for being you!!






How Do You Measure Love?

My niece, Emma, and I have a $10 bet on who loves the other more.  Me or her.

I texted her “love  you”.

She texted back.  “love you too.”

I texted.  “Love you more.  Wanna bet.”

She texted back.  “Yeah.  $10.”

I texted.  “I’ll bet, but how do we measure?”

Is it possible to measure how much you love someone?

I know how much I love her.  My heart bursts with love for her, but can’t put that love into any kind of measurement.  It’s impossible.

I can show her that I love her.  I can pick on her until she gets mad at me and tells me (angrily) to knock it off.  I can keep hugging her until I get the same result as picking on her.  I can wink or smile at her.  I can kiss her on the check.  I can take her to the movies. I can buy her something at the mall.  I can spend time with her.  I can laugh with her.  I can send a card in the mail to let her know I’m thinking about her.  I can wipe away her tears.

But I can’t measure that love.

I know she loves me when she laughs when I say something funny or how she rolls her fifteen year old eyes when I say something weird.  I know when she walks past me and says “poke” as she pokes me lightly in the belly.  I know when she gives me a long, tight hug when she goes home.  I know when she takes the time to text me back.

But I can’t measure that love.

Does she love me more than I love her?  Since I can’t jump into her body and see things through her eyes and feel things with her heart I guess I will never know.

I can only believe.

So who wins the bet?

I guess we both do because we love each other.   We both are winners because we are lucky to have the other.

And, yeah, I’ll give her the $10 — because I love her.





Do I Push Money Away?

The Powerball Jackpot is 204 million.  Everyone is talking about this at work and what they dream about what they would do if they would win.  Buy a new house.  A new car.  Pay off their bills.  Cross items off of their bucket list.  Donate to their favorite charity.

Not me.

I think about the thousands of dollars I would have to pay in taxes.   I think about all the people who be asking (hounding) me for money and where I could hide to escape this.

Not exactly the kind of mindset that will draw a couple of millions dollars into my life is it?

I always do that.  I always think of the bad things that can happen instead of thinking of the good.

When I was in high school this way of thinking saved my butt many times.  My friends would suggest going to a party we weren’t suppose to go to.  I would think if I get caught this is what will happen — my dad is going to have my butt and I am going to grounded forever. I didn’t go to the party.  My friends were grounded but I wasn’t.

The funny thing (well it’s not funny – it’s actually kind of sad) is that this is the way I still think today and I realize that this behavior doesn’t serve me now.   I didn’t realize that this is the way I make decisions in my life and this is the way I live every day.  Not many good things are going to come into my life if I think of the bad things first.

What about the money area of my life?  Am I pushing away the 130 million because I think of the bad instead of the good?

You betcha.  Sad isn’t it?  How could I live 52 years on this planet without realizing this before?

I never realized I was doing this until I started reading a book by Jen Sincero called You are a Badass at Making Money.  I’ve only read the first chapter but she makes you think about the many good things can come from having money.  Instead of thinking about all of the negative things (like I have been doing) she focuses on the positive.  This is a new way of thinking for me.  I didn’t realize that I could think of money is a positive way.

What if I started to think about all of the good things that would happen if I let money come into my life?  What if I thought about all of the people I could help?  My family.  My husband’s family.  My church.  I could start of foundation of some sort.

I’ve always know that money has been waiting at my front door for me to let it in.  It’s always something that I have felt, but I have never been able to accomplish.  Maybe I can now.

I am going to go read some more of Jen’s book and write in my journal.

And go buy a lottery ticket.  🙂





My Mom Is My World

I think the older we get the more we appreciate our mother.  We appreciate what she sacrificed so that we could have what we needed growing up.  We appreciate the lessons she taught (even if we didn’t understand why til now).  We appreciate the words of wisdom, the wiping away of tears, smiles and words of encoragement.

I don’t have any kids so maybe it took me longer to realize how many things she did sacrifice for me and my siblings and what it meant overall to the well being of our family.

I was always a daddy’s girl.  When I was younger my dad came first and my mom came second, but the older I became the more I confided in her and spent time with her and the more important she became.  As I grew older I think my mom became more important and my dad slowly took second place.  It’s not that I wasn’t a daddy’s girl anymore it’s just that he couldn’t give me advice on wifely things or give me the female perspective on menopause.

My dad passed away over two years ago.  I have realized over this time that my mom was the rock and still is the rock of our family.   Her love and devotion to all of us is the glue that holds our family together.  She is always there for us whenever we need her — day or night — to listen or to help us with whatever we need help with.  Her strength helped us grieve my dad’s death and keep his memory alive.

As I get older I realize how much she has shaped my world and I wouldn’t trade her for the world.  I bought her a heart shaped piece of wood that had the following words written on it:

To the world you are a mom, but to me you are the world.

My mom is my world.

Thanks, Mom!  I love you!


Why I Keep A Journal

I have been keeping a journal as long as I can remember.  I have always been somewhat of a loner so putting my thoughts on paper was always easier for me than talking face to face with someone.  When I was younger I didn’t have a lot of confidence nor did I have the courage to tell people what I truly going on inside so I took a pen to paper instead.

Now I keep a journal  for different reasons.  Even though I still am kind of a loner I keep a journal to work through my past issues and not let those issues cloud today.   I don’t write in it everyday like I probably should, but I do write in it periodically.

Writing in my journal helps me deal with what is bothering me.  I can keep things that are bothering me swimming in my head because I don’t want to deal with them or I can put my thoughts on paper and deal with them.

There is something bothering me today that I need to write in my journal about but I am afraid.  I am afraid of letting it come to the surface and dealing with it because I’m not sure what other feelings are under what I am feeling and I’m not sure how to deal with it.  I know I should (I’m shoulding on myself a lot today aren’t I?).  Once I start I’m sure it won’t be so bad.

What is bothering me is an issue I learned about from my parents.  It’s nothing terrible.  It’s just something I learned about an issue that was far away from us when I was growing up.  But now that issue is close to me and I know what I learned is clouding my judgement and I really need to sort through my feelings.  I’m afraid to because I know my life is going to move forward and even though this is what I want I am still afraid.

Ok.  Sigh…..I’m going to go write in my journal now.

Have a great day!


Don’t Be Afraid To Learn As You Go

I was scared to death to start this blog.  Would people read it?  Would people like it?  Or would it be a complete utter flop?

I noted on my about me page that I would post every Wednesday and Sunday.  This didn’t always happen.  I was scared and let my fear get in the way of what I really wanted to do.

I stopped posting for a couple of weeks.  Actually, I stopped and restarted…..twice.   At that time I didn’t know that WordPress had so much information on line and I was so overwhelmed with posting every week and all that I had to learn that I gave up because I didn’t know where to start.

One day I realized that if I wanted to have a successful blog I needed to commit and post EVERY Wednesday and Sunday.   Even if I’m scared, tired (which I am now), have a million things going on or I have worked ten hours at my shipping job I still need post when I say I’m going to post.

I have to make it happen even if I feel like it or not.  If I want my dreams to come true I have to try.  I have to make my dream a priority in my life.  I need to give my dream the time and space it deserves.  Or why bother having a dream if you can’t do what it takes to make it a reality.

I’m 52.  I’m not 22.  I don’t have my whole life in front of me anymore.  I have a finite amount of time left (hopefully it’s 30 years or more — I still have a lot of things I want to do) and I better damn well make the best of it.

I realize that I can’t let me fear guide me.  Even though there’s a ton of stuff I need to learn about blogged I can still write my posts every week while I learn.  My blog doesn’t need to be perfect right away.  My blog is a work in progress and I can learn while I post every week.

Go, Chrissy, Go!!!