I’m at that age where I’ve begun having power surges—also known as hot flashes. They are the most mind-boggling, craziest, hysterically funny things nature ever invented. (Well, maybe not all that, but they sure are interesting.)
About a dozen times a day, for no reason at all, my body ignites with this sudden rush of intense heat. WHOOSH! Thermal imaging would show a living brand. I’m a fireball, flushed and sweating from head to toe, peeling off clothes like they’re in flames, flinging off blankets, opening windows to let the cold wind blow in. If we had snow, I’d be outside rolling in it. It’s that amazing.
Of course, I’d heard of hot flashes, but no one ever told me what to expect. And clearly, I never asked. What’s interesting is that my skin doesn’t feel hot. It’s not like a fever; I feel normal other than the inferno blasting through me. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or wearing; the surges are random, triggered by the sheer whimsy of Mother Nature. They last for five or ten minutes and vanish. All done…go back to whatever it was you were doing…put your clothes back on.
My husband thinks I’ve gone insane.
I can understand why working women find this phenomena so annoying. You can’t exactly strip down to your skivvies in the boardroom, and breaking out into a rampant sweat is considered unbecoming. As a full-time writer, I choose to engage with these new experiences; I’m fine that three lunch pals are fanning me with their menus while I laugh hysterically and dab my forehead with the table linens.
So, why share this weirdness, you might ask. Am I planning to use this bizarre experience in my next story? Probably not. I consider it a public service announcement for anyone as oblivious as yours truly. One of the entertaining benefits of being clueless is the opportunity to have amazing insights about things that other people already know.
Well, there you have it – a little lighthearted break from my heavier posts and an explanation as to why I’m so hot!