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1:21 p.m. - 2011-07-11
Snap Crackle Grrrr

How did men get away with calling us 'the weaker sex' for so long?

Mick had some kind of mystery ailment over the weekend. Sporadic fever, chills, a wicked headache and his back hurt. No other more typical flu symptoms like vomiting or the trots. Just tired and achy and hot and cold in turns. To me that's just a regular day here at Menopause Manor, to Mick he was an inch from death and no amount of sympathy and concern was enough. I couldn't possibly understand what he was going through! Nope, not me.


Look, I know once men outgrow their spontaneous erection phase that pretty much their bodies behave and do what they're told. Feeling less than top notch scares them, it's too foreign. Men don't (won't) understand what it's like to live inside a body that's constantly in flux. Cramps, bleeding, bloat, backaches, boobs so tender that bumping into something will drop you to your knees, to say nothing of an emotional roller-coaster far scarier than anything they have at Six Flags. And aside from the occasional ice cream binge or snappish day women carry on and do what they do. A woman could have a double compound fracture of the tibia and fibula and a small arrow sticking out of one arm and she'd figure out how to get the kids to practice anyhow. And a man with a hangnail requires round the clock intensive care, an announcement in the paper and a call to his lawyer to make sure his will is in order.

In many, many important and loving ways Mick isn't the stereotypical "It's ALL about ME!!!" lunkhead kind of guy. But, baby, when he's sick all bets are off.

I'll be honest here, I'm good for about 24 hours of "You poor thing" and then my ass starts to chap. Living in this hellish funhouse of a bod for almost 50 years and I'm a bit jaded about the 'horrible agonizing misery' of Mick's physical megrims. Sue me. Oy, Mick's latest Death's door experience started on Friday and he's still not 100%. Whee.

Plus Wolf's in full sullen mode. Taking him to work-study this morning was soooo unpleasant. The child radiates gloom and smoldering piss-off. I know it's normal and challenging his funk just makes him glower and growl more, but day-um! I truly wanted to bust out with, "Good morning to you too, Mr Sunshine Pants." But it was too early to get into it with him. Whatever, kid. Go have a crappy day. I'll pick you up at 2:30. Teenagers. Feh.

Our pal, the Sage, is just wee bit cranky today, eh? And really, can you blame me?

It's not my intention to pass my bad mood onto you guys. Had to get it off my chest though. So, thanks.

Let's find something happier to discuss.






Okay, screw it. Obviously I'm having trouble putting on a sweet smile and waxing rhapsodic about clean towels and tweety birds and

Grumpy and not feeling so hot myself, ~LA

6 Wanna talk about it!

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