Guess what the Easter Bunny brought me?
A lovely big Lindt Easter Egg? Nope.
A fantastic Double Decker Egg? Nope.
Maybe an After Eight Egg? Nope
How about even just a smarties one? No – wrong again!
What about an entry into a 5K? Feckin Yes! Give yourself a prize if you guessed correctly!!
Yes I swear to fecking god – a feckin entry into a 5K in May. Apparently this is ‘supportive’ to my weight loss journey and will be a ‘good practice’ for the 10K I am doing in June which I only ended up signing up for because I was a little drunk.
OK – I did say that I didn’t want an Egg due to trying to lose weight. But OBVIOUSLY I did not mean that. And if a partner of 5 years cannot see that, then I am not sure if there is a future in the relationship. And I never once mentioned or hinted that I wanted an entry into a feckin race.
I should have seen it coming – my Christmas present when we first met was 20 chickens for some African Community. I initially had to pretend to be delighted as I was portraying myself as a non materialistic kind person (as you do at the start of a relationship). But we had a conversation over a lot of wine not long after where I explained the types of things that make good presents for me e.g. Chanel Number 5; Spa Vouchers; Posh notebooks from Paperchase; Lovely Jo Malone Candles. I don’t mind having the chickens etc – but they need to be an ‘extra’ present – not a ‘main’ present. And I thought we were getting somewhere – I was having to give less and less hints to get quite good presents. Clearly we need another chat!
A feckin entry to a 5K. I mean – fuck off. I feel I may have over-reacted somewhat to the ‘thoughtful gift’. But to be fair it had been a tricky few days as we were on a wee trip and as many know – the menopause can rip the ‘happy’ right out of holidays.
The stress had started when packing. PM (pre menopause) it was easy – fling a few pairs of knickers in a bag with a toothbrush and some make up and off I went.
Not now. Firstly and most importantly the tweezers have to go in. And a decision on which pair. The expensive ones that can clear a chin in 3 minutes flat or the cheaper ones that take longer but I won’t mind so much if they get confiscated at Airport security (because clearly a pair of tweezers is the weapon of choice for International Terrorists).
Then it’s the menopausal supplements. My magnesium as it stops me being knackered all the time. And the chromium as it stops me eating my body weight in sugar every day.
And the medication – thyroxine because my thyroid has packed up which is common during the menopause… Dermovate because I have some odd skin condition which only flares up if I forget it…. cream for my rosacea which is another lovely quite recent treat from the Menopause Fairy. Without it my face, in particular my nose, flares up making me look like a raging alcoholic.
Sanitary protection because feck knows if and when a period may appear.
Extra clothing just in case the sweats from a hot flush render an outfit no long wearable. Extra pajamas for the same reason.
And sods law – just as I need more clothes – my arse and belly increase in size and so my clothes are much bigger. Even my knickers now have to be folded before I put them in.
And my partner (who didn’t get me an Easter Egg) won’t let me use their case because it is full of crap including a 2010 AA roadmap for when we pick up the hire car because apparently ‘sat navs are not to be trusted’. I cannot bear to hear the story of the car that ended up in a river when the driver followed the satnav or have another argument about how an ancient map that half the roads no longer exist on is NOT preferable to my WAZE app that will avoid traffic jams and road closures. We can have that argument later. Also – I didn’t argue too much because I suspected an Easter Egg might be in there… which was patently wrong!!
‘Why not just pay to put an extra bag in the hold?’ my partner (who didn’t get me an Easter egg) said. ‘Because I can think of better things to do with a 2nd mortgage’ I reply. And somehow or the other I manage to cram all my stuff in to my little cabin approved bag. Andrea Mclean says we should all wear a menopause badge but I think it would be better if she perhaps campaigned for something more useful e.g. an additional bag for menopausal ladies when flying.
And off we go – three couples ready to explore the wilds of Dorset.
But not before Airport Security. My bag whizzes through – tweezers intact – ya dancer!! But I am stopped and the lady puts the long stick thing all over me – it goes mental beeping at my fanny area. OH FECK – I forgot about my fanny magnet – I meant to take it off. I was most apologetic and the lady was actually quite interested so in the end we had a nice chat about it.
Tina the Turner then waltzed through setting the beeper off too. She did it on purpose though! She does it all the bloody time with her special metal bracelet – due to some fantasy she has about being frisked. I have berated her for this several times but she just shrugs and smiles as she is patted down, imaging she is in Prisoner Cell Block H or Orange is the New Black depending on her mood.
Finally we arrive at our destination airport – all sober. We pretend we are supporting the designated driver but it is really because BA charge the GDP of a small country for a glass of wine and we forgot to pick up some vodka at the duty free to pour into our bottles of coke.
And after ten zillion years waiting to get our hire car we all pile in and we are off. No one is allowed to look at the map apart from my partner (who didn’t get me an Easter Egg) and no one is allowed to use Waze so it takes some time and a number of wrong turns and swear words to get to our final destination. So the first part of my healthy eating plan for the weekend is out the window (which was to stop and get porridge for breakfast and lots of fruit and veg) as we can’t be arsed going to the supermarket and instead stop at an off licence then order in Dominos pizza to our cottage. I am determined to log my syns though and get my little Slimming World record page out and start writing it down. Two dominos pizza… Garlic bread…. Ice Cream…. Two bottles of wine. After that the writing gets a bit tricky to make out. But I don’t worry too much because Slimming World have this great thing called ‘flexible syns’ where you can stuff your face, draw a line under it and start again.
The next day we are all a little tender and Tina the Turners loud and excitable nieces come to get us to take us to the ‘best bar around for afternoon sessions’. We get there and my gin and tonic is served in a jam jar. A jam jar? Why would anyone want to drink their drink out of a jam jar? Apparently it is the new thing. Who knew? So I am mutton drinking as lamb. The noise is incredible and I cannot bear it. So finally us old ones feck off back to the cottage, get our pajamas on and settle down to watch Ant and Dec. Well – actually it was just Dec. I think he did quite well on his own but I fell asleep half way through it so can’t say for definite.
Hot flushes, temper tantrums, fatigue and lack of an Easter Egg (for the first time in nearly 50 years) aside it was a lovely holiday overall. I was feeling fairly calm and happy as we boarded the plane to come home.
But then the Peppa Pig tune came from nowhere? I looked behind me and a kid was watching their ipad in wonder. No earphones. At times like this it is hard to know if you are moody or if someone is genuinely being a twat and needs to be told. So I calmly (proud of myself) ask the mother if perhaps she has earphones for her daughter. ‘Oh’ she replies ‘she doesn’t like wearing them’. ‘Oh’ I reply ‘that’s a shame because I doubt the rest of the plane like to listen to Peppa Pig all the way home’. She compromises by turning the volume down to an annoying buzz. Does everyone get pissed off with parents who feel that a blaring ipad with annoying cartoons is an acceptable way to behave on public transport? Or is it just me? PUBLIC transport – the clue is in the name!
Sometimes it is nice to get home!! Peace and quiet and comfy bed. My partner who didn’t get me an Easter Egg offered to go and get one. But I have refused as they are half price now and also it is Fat Club tomorrow and everyone knows you don’t eat crap the day before Fat Club – you save it for after weigh in. I also feel there may be better benefits to playing the martyr just a bit longer.
Happy Easter Everyone. Hmmmm – just reread this – I suspect hormonal mood swings are at a peak today. I best try to be nice for a wee while. I will start tomorrow. And if anyone has a problem with that then it is their problem and I would advise they don’t try to make it mine!
I hope you all got Easter Eggs from kind and thoughtful partners!!