Sunday I am sitting in the worship serve at church and I realize I am angry. Really angry! There is no rational reason for this anger. The teens are listening, the pastor is not going late (that would not be as good reason to be angry by the way), no one is singing off key and no small child is kicking my chair.
My neck is tensing. When am I going to remember to carry Ben-Gay along with lipstick in my purse? My mind is racing and my emotions only need a red flag to set them loose. I have teens; someone is going to wave that flag at me…!
The service ends. With one look at me, my husband gets that” I do not know what happened but it was not my fault look” I quickly readjust my face, this is public you know. Instead of chatting while my men help stack chairs, I go wait out front.
Perimenapuase is an emotional “mind” field. I know it is just hormones but the anger feels real and even more difficult, it feels justified. Carbohydrates in massive quantities are needed and needed quickly! A few Dove Chocolates or a dash of black cotash will not stem this hormone surge. It is time to pull out the big guns!
Pasta…massive amounts of pasta.
We arrive home mostly unscathed by my tongue. A feat of super human self-control that will not last much longer. I dive into the freezer. Pasta calls for a good sauce and a good sauce need both meat and a long slow simmer. I prefer three hours but in this emergency, I will endure for two. There is no ground beef unfrozen. Disaster looms…but wait a bag of 128 frozen meatballs leaps off the shelf into my hands. 128 meatballs will not be enough thinks my hormone soaked brain, but it will have to do.
Into the pot, tomato paste and sauce and spices and soy souse, garlic and onion and finally the noble meatballs.
I go hid in my room except for quick pops into the kitchen to stir the sauce.
Two hours, fifteen minutes, two pounds of cooked pasta later, sanity returns.
I did share some pasta and sauce with my family…. Even a meatball or two.
Do you have a tale from the hormone front?