Surprised on Tuesdays

Today’s draft was inspired by perimenopause — again. It’s just a wonderful museum full of discoveries. Today’s discovery is that I feel almost exactly like I did in puberty — unsettled, confused, full of unexplained rage, and also about to burst with tenderness for literally everything.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedThere is a vacuum between the fine older lady,wearing pearls over cashmere, glasses on a chain around her neck,and the time-addled crone,unwashed on an infested chair surrounded by cats.I must choose.I choose the vacuum.I choose the void.I sit in the waves of heat and emotional storms(weather not seen in forty years)I choose to be surprised by my face on Tuesdays,to love every warm fold on Saturdays,the rest of the week to dance in this body like I've always owned it.