My body is falling apart and I'll be 40 in December...

Did this thing come with a warranty for goodness sakes?!?!?!?!?

Had the yearly today. Girls, you know what I mean. Guys, just never mind.

Seriously, my day began with a face full of zits. Now, someone please tell me, what the heck?!?!?!? I guess I should formally and publicly apologize to anyone and everyone to who I bragged to in high-school, about not having pimples. Cause now, I'm paying. And, they're not your average garden variety type either. These things hurt! And are seriously U-G-L-Y! I made it 39 years before this whole crap started. It seems, too, that the more I clean my face and treat it with whatever, the worse it gets. Ugh.

So then, THE appointment. That annoying, humiliating, uncomfortable, tortuous, part of life that we women must endure our entire lives. It was all going fine until the question, "So, it looks like you will be 40 this year. Have you had a mammogram yet?" Two words I did not want to have to hear until I HAD to. "40" and "mammogram." And, I guess today was the day. Oh joy. My body is falling apart underneath me. Thyroid, bladder, acne, allergies, asthma, the list goes on and on (as I am omitting the gross stuff - and there's lots of it!)

So, of course I go there. You know where I'm talking about, ladies. There. On the phone with Charlie, "Just be glad you're not a woman!" His response, "I hear ya!" I get to thinking in the car ride on the way to pick up the daughter I forgot to pick up earlier..... MEN.

Okay, I understand the whole pain during childbirth thing because of Eve. But, pain for the rest of your life? A body that is held together with masking tape and staples, that is squishy and bloated, and leaks? Thanks a lot, Eve! Thanks - a - lot! Here are some of the things we women have to deal with that men will never understand - although the sweet ones try really hard - they just will never get the full magnitude of living with all of them like we do!

The "chocolate time of the month" as we like to call it in our house. The funny thing about this phenomenon is - although we as women are the ones dealing with this week of schizophrenia, followed by a week of disgusting mess - is that the men are sometimes the ones complaining about it the most. Especially, if there is more than one female in the home. Forget about four - and my poor friends Sara-Anne and Gina - five! Yeah, the men actually complain about it like they are the ones having to beg to be brought to the marina so you can go to the bathroom, instead of peeing in the lake like everybody else.

Shaving is another fun activity. Especially if you have a freaking 37" leg! Do you guys understand how hard it is to shave that far away? I have to FedEx the razor to my foot and wait for UPS to bring it back. It takes me FOREVER to shave my legs! And, how are we rewarded for our silky smooth appendages? "You take too long in the shower!" But, heaven forbid we NOT shave! Then we hear, "Yikes! Look at the hair on those legs!" Nuff said about that.

Now. While we're on the subject of hair. It takes me every minute of an hour to get my hair to look the way it does. First, shampoo and condition in the shower, which takes awhile with the coif I got going on up there. If there is not sufficient water pressure - even longer. 20 minutes. It is soooo thick. Then, the hair drying process. In order to get my hair straight, I have to section my hair off to dry it one part at a time - pulling it straight with a hairbrush. 15 minutes. Then, after it's dry, back up into clips in sections for the straightening. 20 more minutes. Then, five minutes left for teeth brushing and makeup. This must happen every day if I want to look decent for my hubby, who has verbally expressed his desire that I wear my hair the way I do. (He doesn't even like it up in a clip - but hey, I gotta get a break somewhere! It gets in my face all day!) So, sometimes I just skip the shower altogether - and "hat it."

Clothing. To dress up and look nice, a man need merely to tuck his shirt in and put on a belt. And, he can wear the same exactly thing repeatedly, and nobody will really notice. We, however, must stuff ourselves into pantyhose, Spanx, and push-up or strapless bras that cut off the circulation to the lower half of our bodies. To dress up jeans - high heels. I don't even think I need to explain how that is worse for women. Then, we are required to have a million different outfits - because people remember what WE wear! But, then we get nudged about shopping too much.

Well, I could go on an on, but you get the picture. And, I'm not taking away from the sweet guys out there who work hard for us and provide the world to us. I just get so frustrated at the handicap we girls work with on a daily basis. I mean, just think of all I could get done in a day if I didn't have to worry about this stuff! If I didn't look like a matchstick when I had short hair, I would totally buzz it! That would make my life sooooo easy! Heck, I'm even longing for the days when the perm-look was in. I had it made! Wash and scrunch. Loved it. Oh well. Guess we just have to keep on keeping on.