Masked & MentalPausal

Editors Note:

That’s me. I’m the editor. I’ve just always wanted to use that disclaimer in a blog. “The writing to follow is intended as humor only. If you wish to debate the mask vs no mask argument please go back to your Facebook feed, where I am 100% certain you will find a thread to sate your desire to battle with humans that don’t see it your way. If you can’t find one, just start one. It will take less than five minutes to find a fight. This blog is intended to help us laugh a little and nothing more”. Thanks for listening. “The Editor” 😉

The face shield was donned for creative use only. The time span between placing this on my head and snapping the photo was 1.7 seconds that seriously felt like three days trapped underground. As the fog rolled up via way of my “I’m having a contraction” inspired breathing, I found myself losing peripheral sight. And then the hot flash hit…

Great. So now I’m visually impaired, fogged up and in hell. I am saving the photo above to wave in my great- grandchildren’s little faces when they dare to complain about life and how hard it is. My parents used the whole “we walked through 8 feet of snow for 12 miles to get to school young lady” way of expressing their hardships.

Oh yeah? I survived a pandemic during menopause. You got something better than that kids? No I don’t think so. Yeah, you just go whine elsewhere. And the generation before me…pfft…snowdrifts. That’s adorable, thanks for sharing.

So the area I live in has decided to make masking mandatory in all indoor public spaces effective 3 months post pandemic. A man made this decision. I know that because any woman would have considered the hot flash. A woman would have issued 12 foot circumference electric fencing to be affixed to the hips of every female over 45 because let me assure you… 6 feet is not gonna save you when we are ready to beat you to death while you stand deciding between Tide or Gain. Let me be clear, we are literally heading into a physical and emotional meltdown of catastrophic proportions. Grab the Tide or face the consequences. We are not smiling sympathetically behind the mask. We are pursing our lips and wondering if we have to wear one in prison.

Another part of me truly believes this decision was made to stop the screaming matches in the grocery store lineups. The whole “everyone gets a blue ribbon” mentality so that no one feels left out or special. I don’t think its working as well as we hoped but being only one week into this new normal I suppose I don’t have much to quantify that with. Not yet at any rate. But give it time and I am certain that something more ridiculous will present to scream about; maybe the shopper ahead of you losing their schnitzel because you dared to wear open toed sandals. Wait for it. For those not in the medical field there are finger cots ( they look like little condoms for the troll dolls) available that could be used to shield your ten little piggies if necessary. No offense to anyone that has less piggies of course but the norm is ten. No offense to trolls either, I love your hair.

I want to quickly go over the upsides to the pandemic and the things we should be grateful for. Or things I am grateful for.

  1. Shaving your legs is completely unnecessary. Anyone on the beach is six feet or more away and unless they have x-ray vision you have no fear of being exposed for not touching your Bic or Lady Bic for the last 106 days. From a distance it looks like a Coppertone tan. Or a bear with a Coppertone tan. Doesn’t matter. No one cares. Half can’t see cause their glasses are fogged up anyway. Let it grow and embrace your authenticity. **This does not include arm pit hair. Please shave that cause we all know nothing tans in the dark**
  2. You’ve saved a fortune on razor blades in only shaving your pits. Have you seen the price of razor blades? This is a plus. Now you can stock up on Tide for your own safety. You have surplus income. Buy the Tide.
  3. You’re learning what you don’t need to survive. Prior to this adventure I was a grocery hoarder. I have learned that a half loaf of bread actually won’t evaporate in one day if I don’t run out to buy a new whole loaf as a “just in case backup”. In fact, I have learned that the half loaf is still sitting there six days later. It’s blue but it’s still there. I should throw that out. But the point is…why was I replacing what we weren’t consuming? When this is over I plan to patent four slice loaves of bread and approach No Frills. I may get rich.
  4. No antiperspirant? No problem. No one will get close enough to smell you anyway. If they do they have a mask on. Still can’t smell you. Cha-Ching. More surplus income for the loaf of bread you don’t need.
  5. Masks muffle words. You can freely curse at the person not wearing closed toed shoes and they will think you’ve been drinking and smile sympathetically. You won’t see the smile but it’s there and it’s sympathetic. Just be sure to change up your curse phrases because it won’t take us long to catch onto what “fluffin aspwall” really means. Be considerate and use your words to heal not harm.
  6. If you tighten the strings on your homemade cloth masks you too can be a flying elephant for a day. I tried it last week. Walked through the drugstore looking like Dumbo. The downside to this is that the hearing is improved because you’ve elongated your ear drums. So I now sadly know what the masked “fluclin ijiuf” actually means. I loosened the strings and now look like I have seven chins. But at least I can’t actually hear you anymore so will smile at you sympathetically instead of wanting to throw my sanitized cart at you.
  7. Masks can and most likely WILL cause middle age “wtf is this?” acne outbreaks and hide them at the same time. Win win. You won’t die and you won’t need Clearasil.
  8. We have seen a significant reduction in the phrase “date night”. Sadly this phrase has been replaced by new wording that may be considered as admissible in court one day, but the good news is I think we finally worked our way through that life phase. Halleluiah praise Covid. Sorry…not sorry. Do you know that in my early marriage date night meant he washed and I dried? Oh wait…now I sound like my parents.

Do you know I survived the 2020 pandemic in menopause?

Just buy the Tide and you might too.

Sassy, Smoldering and Social Distanced

So today I set fire to my bangs.  I had been standing in the bathroom staring forlornly at my hair and thinking it was beginning to resemble a horses tail that hadn’t been brushed in a decade and wondering how best to fix this. If I have learned one thing over the years it’s to never put it out there to the universe that something might need to go. I wandered out to the balcony and lit a cigarette with the BBQ lighter. 

Here’s the disclaimer part:

In no way do my musings represent a lack of understanding of the gravity of our current world situation. I continue to daily send my best energy and love to all that are directly and indirectly affected by this nasty virus.  My heart hurts with all those that have lost their lives to this or have a loved one struggling to breath.  What I have learned is that often times our best way forward is to find the human parts to this, the “first world” problems that exist in this for us all and I try to create an atmosphere a little lighter than the one we see each hour over social media.  Humor is the antidote to the fear and the anxiety.  If I can make you laugh for a moment it is a moment not feeding the monster that is holding us hostage.  Virus’s are intuitively based, just as we are.  They naturally gravitate to fear energy because in fear we become less strong . So by laughing in the face of it can change its direction.  So let’s find the lighter side of the dark today.  And lets remember to thank our front line workers please. Our coffee servers, our delivery drivers, our bus drivers, our essential customer service workers, our emergency services, our nurses, our social workers and mental health workers, our doctors and every single damn person that is working hard in our hospitals right now.

 

I don’t know about the rest of you but this introvert is actually slowly losing her mind.  If I am not soon permitted to touch another human being I might just go mad. I mean touch in the non weirdest of ways,  but you have been warned that I may become overly excited like a new puppy and just leap on anyone that happens to pass by once quarantine is lifted. Please refrain from calling security.  They already have me penciled in for line tipping. Kinda like cow tipping without the cow.

So let’s talk about that first.

I want to talk about the red lines that now separate me from the shopper ahead and behind me.  Firstly, I have vertigo in every moment of every day, so trying to keep my size 12 canoes on my side of said red line is becoming a challenge. And quite frankly I am starting to take offence to being loudly admonished by the security who suddenly beams up from God knows where when I tip forward and have to move a big toe to stop from taking a header into the gum display.

`Dear Security personnel..I do appreciate your being there by the way. Your finding your way into my blog is strictly for the humor portion. Thank you for keeping us safe.` 

Secondly, can someone please help me to understand this six feet apart theory when the lady still shopping  just came up the aisle behind me and now must cross directly in front of me and directly behind the person ahead of me.  I don’t see security diving on her do I?  I suppose this suggests that scientifically speaking moving targets don’t count in the distance criteria. I can hear the virus now.  “I don’t have the energy to chase that one, go for the one that just tipped over the red line. Security just terrified her into hold pose until the bagging area is clear.”

So today I set fire to my bangs.  I had been standing in the bathroom staring forlornly at my hair and thinking it was beginning to resemble a horses tail that hadn’t been brushed in a decade and wondering how best to fix this. If I have learned one thing over the years it’s to never put it out there to the universe that something might need to go. I wandered out to the balcony and lit a cigarette with the BBQ lighter.

Don’t judge and yes I know about the coronavirus and smoking…I have heard it a thousand times now, and let me assure you the threat of smoking is no match for the threat of me not smoking for my beloved husband. Lets focus on keeping him safe too OK? 

It didn’t occur to me that my horses tail wasn’t secured and poof…took care of the bangs pretty darned fast. Smelled awful but on the bright side, I think I might actually be responsible for a new hair craze                                                                                                  ~It’s sassy, it’s smoldering, it’s the new “Singed Fringe”~

You read it here first folks. Coming to a salon near you soon. Or not soon. Maybe June. Maybe October. No one knows for sure.

Now let’s talk about the first world problems of this forced isolation.  I am three weeks late for the eyelash fill.  After the singe fringe affair I ran to the bathroom once again to douse the flames under the bathroom sink. That’s hard by the way. I don’t know who designed this but it’s incredibly difficult to get your head sideways under that tap. We should consider this if my new hair craze takes hold. (Before someone says it..my kitchen sink was full of yesterdays dishes because well, whose gonna visit and who cares?)  As I wrangled my face out of the water stream I stood up and pushed back the remainder of the bangs and noticed the lashes. On the left eye  exists approximately 20 lush and long. On the right exists maybe four thin and barren and it’s a confusing look to be certain.  Only now do I start to panic about burning my bangs off. Thank the good Lord above for sunglasses, because I just cannot imagine the looks should I purchase magnetic ones in this current climate of essentials only.

“OMG there was a women today at Shoppers purchasing eyelashes!! I am sure she’s the same one that line tips, I’ve heard security talk about her. Hmmph.  And I’ve heard that she also goes out for walks in the park and that’s not social distancing!” 

OK so lets talk about that.  If memory serves me correct there was not any mention by our PM here in Canada of enacting martial law just yet.  A child that belongs to me personally was recently taken to task for publicly announcing a stroll through a graveyard for heaven sake.  A graveyard that housed the dead from like three centuries ago so the chances of them getting bus loads of living visitors are certainly slim at best. She allowed her children the opportunity to run in a spot that was free of any danger of being subject to the virus, yet was belittled of her parenting skills and her “choice” to put others in danger.  You’ll forgive me but I doubt the dead have concern about this danger.  How about we stop that sort of silliness and stop it soon.  Giving ourselves and our kids fresh air in these trying times is not irresponsible if we are alert and aware of our surroundings and those that are taking in the air with us.  I have seen parents with small kids moving around the grocery stores and no one says a word about that.  Why? Because it’s essential?  So is fresh air and sunshine.  And running and laughing. And being a kid in times that are difficult for them to understand.  If the time comes that we must be in forced quarantine it will be much harder. So lets stop policing parents who are just trying to give their kids that tiny bit of space allowed in this new world of distance.  OK that was the serious try to be a good neighbor paragraph.  Onward….

Let’s talk about the anxiety of this.  Every day we are subject to new and conflicting information.  Stopped taking your Ibuprofen and now you can’t get out of bed without a forklift?  After four days of being subject to no less than 70 inbox warnings about my muscle and joint choice of drugs I was overjoyed to discover ( because I went looking) that these claims are unfounded. Surprise!! I hope you all realize that I may have noticed my eyelash dilemma sooner had I actually been able to turn my head instead of it being caught in a torticollis  ( google that)  because I had finally been convinced that my Advil would take me out.  It feels good to move my head again, eyelashes or not.

And the symptoms keep changing on us. If that doesn’t send your anxiety skyrocketing I don’t know what will. First it was plugged nose with no running, now its running nose with no plugging. Sore throat, maybe not a sore throat.  Then it was high fever now intermittent fever,  mild headache to your head might blast off migraine style. And a dry cough.  Good God…small wonder we are terrified to walk in a cemetery with 1400 dead people in case they catch it.  This week alone I have diagnosed myself twelve times because I have a drippy allergy nose, a headache from an unnecessary torticollis ( google it)  a sore throat from talking for 8 hours a day ( yes work goes on via phone), a dry cough from the sore throat from talking for 8 hours ( and smoking but we’re not judging) and hot-flashes from menopause.  Everything that is normal is a symptom and it’s scary.  And I get it, trust me I do get it.  We truly are all in this together and it helps to understand that especially now.  The wording from some health networks to “act like you have the virus” while logical is also making us crazy.   But my losing my ever loving mind mid hot flash today only to discover it would pass with the removal of all clothing really wasn’t good for the mental health after all. Or the mental health of the unfortunate people in the parking lot just outside of my open window.   I truly wonder how many women of my age have considered calling or have called the fine nurses of Tele-Health  over a typical hormone surge.

Oh..to catch you all up on the saga of Molly the drama dog, her surgery recovery went well but the 3 am drama howls continued from the couch of which she can now jump onto with no issue but the drama ensued on attempting to get down.  So I fixed that problem by laying the vacuum cleaner on the couch.  She hates it. No 3 am whining.  I may go into pet therapy next. Call me. For anyone wondering who Molly the drama dog is refer to the blog previous to this one.

Wash your hands. Stay off the playground equipment. The dead are dead, they can’t catch it or give it to you so don’t be ridiculous and go for a walk giving wide berth to any other living beings that are taking in the same air.  Try not to take every child you birthed into the grocery store if you can. First of all you aren’t all gonna fit behind the red line. Secondly, they run more risk of this virus from touching and feeling and running than they do on a nice stroll with the dead people.  Logic people. Logic.  No judging here, sometimes you have no other choice, but if a choice exists make it the choice to leave them at home instead of trying to keep little fingers that have picked up every sugary cereal option out of little faces.  Because if you are a parent you know it doesn’t matter how many eyes you think you have in the back of your head, one of them is going to stick a finger up their nose and then brush it on a sibling.

Stay safe, stay calm, keep laughing, sing loudly, wash your hands ( said it again) thank those that are working for us right now, stop beating each other up for being human, and remember that you are human too and subject to the same judgement.

We don’t “got this” unless we “get this” together.

I think I have forgotten how to put makeup on. Or pants. I haven’t seen my bra in two weeks. It’s likely in the pile of laundry marked “Who cares, where am I going that needs clothes anyway?”

Or eyelashes…..

Or bangs…

In love, in light, in isolation.

Tania.