I’m pretty sure I’ve hit early menopause. I have absolutely no medical basis for that opinion AT ALL, but it’s fun to tell myself. However, all of the people around me who have endured actual menopause are a) laughing at me, b) assuring me that it is NOT menopause because I’m still speaking coherently, or c) telling me to be careful what I wish for. Here are my symptoms:

1) I’ve become a total bitch. Wait, that one’s not new, I just felt like I should point it out before I go any further. That symptom actually began sometime around 1987.

2) I can’t stay awake past 7:00pm without a case of Red Bull and an attendant who electrocutes me periodically.

3) Global warming be damned, there is no freakin’ way the rest of society is as hot as I am. I don’t mean good lookin’, I mean engulfed in flames under their skin. If this was all global warming-related, scientists would have fixed it by now.

4) I’m going bald in some places and sprouting odd hairs in others. Use your imagination.

5) I’ve developed weird cravings for hot tea and jalapenos and pickled broccoli. Have you ever tried pickling broccoli? It doesn’t work. There’s a weird threshold for how long broccoli can endure vinegar and heat, and if you miss the cutoff point, you have a bowl of pre-v0mited soup on your hands.

That’s it, those are my symptoms. Now, I have a degree in biology and I also have two kids so I know right away that half of you jumped to thinking, “Lorca’s pregnant!” I am not pregnant. Shut up, I already said I’m not pregnant! It’s menopause! Or a drinking problem! I don’t know which! (sorry, I warned you I wasn’t being very nice about this)

On the plus side, there are benefits to entering menopause and coming out the other side. First, it would justify the gray hair I’ve had for the past fifteen years. It would also explain the pools of sweat that mysteriously appear around me at odd times. I could finally stop buying feminine supplies in bulk, like I’m expecting Noah and the ark to pull around any minute and my hoarded stash of Always is the only thing that will hold back the flood waters.

Time for a poll!

Think carefully about your answers. Anyone who thinks I’m pregnant gets to appear on the Jerry Springer show with me when I accuse him or her of being the father. Lookin’ at you, Zorgron.