The Malfunctioning Gumball Machine

   I have reached that "certain age" in which the hormone fairy has waved her magic wand and frequently I don't know what the hell is going on. Welcome to the malfunctioning gumball machine portion of the program. My body used to be some shred of predictable every month, or at least understandable. Now, despite my calendar tracking, I'm still clueless. Some months the eggs come down, some months they don't. Place your bets, folks! I don't wear white pants because they're too risky. I didn't bother with them even when I knew what to expect since I'm too lazy to coordinate underwear when I'm trying to get the hell out of my house.
   Irrational moods are par for the course, as long as I remember to step back and remember whose fault this mess is. I blame that b**ch the hormone fairy. What's funny is that things could be a lot worse. I have not had my first hot flash yet, they can be handy in the winter, I've heard. My friends have told me that I don't look my age, thank God! I know some of it is lucky genetics but I'm guessing that the rest of it is hard work. My current theory is that as long as I keep working out like a nut I can fool my body into thinking that I'm younger than I really am.
   That's peachy for the physical end of things but it doesn't help the cuckoo's nest upstairs. I get to feel the beginning of the downhill slide to old ladyhood. I'm  pretty sure my brain will remain in denial until they close the lid. Pictures of myself seem to be the only things that show me the truth of how I actually look. I hate those bastards.
   I've also found that the older I get, the higher maintenance I become, and the less I feel like doing said  "maintenance".  The various hair that needs to be dyed and/or plucked, the seemingly permanent fanny pack that's impervious to situps, and sudden need for push up bras while other body parts have decided to start jiggling are just part of the fun.
   It's getting harder to be around younger people because I'm so much obviously older that I'm invisible. If my ego wore pants, they've been kicked. Allegedly I have plenty of company. That's true in a general sense. The actual depressing reality is that there are fewer and fewer of us as the years roll on and we weren't a big crowd to begin with! Halloween is becoming a way of life as we approach the age of the funeral. JHC, could this get any more cheerful?!?! While I'm on this side of the daisies, I should probably consider expanding my network. Yes, dear reader, I will have to become more extroverted to find more friends. Perhaps there's a Facebook group for bitter, sarcastic, fellow malfunctioning gumball machines, or I could start one. Who's with me?
   P.S. Get Off My Lawn!!!