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Menopause Is No Joke

Let me paint a picture for you.

Yesterday Nashville got its first “snow storm” of the year, it went from 65 degrees to 23 degrees in just 24 hours. The icy winter day turned into an ice and snow filled night. It was windy and cold.

I was getting ready for bed, and the last thing, anymore, that I do is walk over to the thermostat and turn it on. I don’t turn the heat on as one would expect on a night where you looked out the window, and it is as if everything looked like glass. Nope, I turn the air conditioner on, like I do every. single. night. I turn it down to 60 degrees because… menopause.

But last night I decided to give the reins to Old Man Winter and let him cool down my bedroom, so I opened the window by the head of my bed. I didn’t open it like it was 65 degree, sunny, spring day, I opened it like it was 23 degrees and instantly hit in the face with the most glorious cold air. As I crawled into bed the wind was howling through the window, I had just opened, my husband walked into the bedroom. He just looked at me and before he got into bed, he put on some sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt and crawled into bed. I smiled at him, kissed him on the head, and both apologized and thanked him for being so understanding. As I rolled over to turn out the light and grab my earplugs, I was once again hit in the face with that icy air, and as I grabbed my earplugs, I noticed they were a bit frozen. I was worried this wasn’t going to be a good idea.

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