Or the alternate title. WTF? Linguistically, this term is very astute. As in, it covers a whole lotta shit. Like, when Mike and I were away in June we were blown away as we watched a woman in a restaurant put on deodorant. Classy.
Speaking of blown.
Fifty Shades of Grey? Seriously?! That is the worst book I’ve ever attempted to read in my 47 years. Vapid comes to mind. After the first couple of chapters I was so bored, it reads like a harlequin from the ’70′s, with a side of felony. If I want to be entertained by a woman being sexually assaulted I’ll watch Nancy Grace.
Speaking of vapid.
My weight loss efforts? Sucking wind. Seriously. I’ve been doing weight watchers for 3 months.
That’s 12 weeks.
I’m starting to think that the medical profession has no idea what they are doing when it comes to menopausal women. I get that it’s a natural process but COME ON!!! I’m fairly certain if a man were experiencing weight gain after eating 6 crackers, a tbsp of peanut butter and a bowl of lettuce in a day, the big ‘M’ would no longer exist. If a man cried during laundry commercials, had an anxiety attack when the low fuel light came on (because you were wearing yoga pants, a t-shirt and flip flops and you knew there was no way you were getting out of the car to pump gas, knowing that you look like the michelin man in yoga pants), grew hair in places that should not have hair, spent your night alternately pee’ing and sweating, and experienced life sucking exhaustion. Oh yes, there would be a cure.
And, WTF?! is going on with my neck!?