“People ask if I slept well? I always answer, No, I made a few mistakes.” ― Steven Wright, Comic

Are you so exhausted in the morning that you sometimes mistake a certain snoring male body part next to you for the snooze button? (And that’s all the action he gets for the week?) Ever pour orange juice in the cereal bowl instead of milk? Plan a “Girl’s Night In,” — a wild foodfest slumber party, only to find you’re the only one slumbering? I’ve never exactly been a morning person either, but when I hit my mid-forties, nobody dared phone before noon. I even joined the “National Unable To Sleep” club, but had to quit those “N.U.T.S” meetings when they foolishly rescheduled them for 10 am.

Fortunately during a beach walk last month, my best (and exasperatingly perky) friend Tiffany (the name has been changed to protect “the perfect” from the rest of our wrath) pulled out a new quiz from a popular women’s website. “Are you tired of being tired? Do you feel irritable? Tense? Depressed? Forgetful?” She told me to circle my answers. “Who do you think submitted those darn questions?!” I snapped, vaguely remembering tapping on my laptop during the Insomniac Hour. “Well, no wonder it has so many typos!” Tiff retorted, tossing her blonde (grayless!) tresses as she gracefully broke into an effortless sprint, kicking up wet sand that stuck to my face, highlighting the crevices of my under-eye bags and wrinkles. When I have more energy, remind me to make a new best friend. And her real name is actually Anita-Leigh, so there! (Anger Management blog coming soon!)

But on that fateful day, gorgeous “Tiffany” had an epiphany! She heard about a fun, free event called “Wine, Women, and Hormones” where doctors specializing in females who think they are losing their minds (but might actually only be losing their estrogen) give informative, entertaining talks while ladies listen, learn, laugh, and stuff themselves with dry-roasted almonds. Okay, okay, so I was too tired to cook dinner that night. And even though I secretly hoped they would start me on an IV of Red Bull; the wine was wonderful, the feminine energy rejuvenating, and I even found a new sympathetic doctor who understands that whenever someone asks, “What time is it?” the answer is always, “bedtime!”

Now I just have to list my symptoms so I won’t forget them at my next appointment. Then I have to put a sticky on my front door to remind me to bring that list. Then I need a post-it on my steering wheel detailing the location of the sticky. Note to self: Don’t forget to write a blog about memory loss.

Stay tuned because in the coming weeks, I will keep you abreast (word chosen intentionally due to new, unwanted and LARGER bra size) of my adventures into Hormone Harmony and how it impacts my life and those brave enough to stay in it!