I am a nerd. I have known this for some time and have never tried to deny it. I'm not a candidate for Mensa; IQ's somewhere above average and below genius and the test to enter the organization is more of a challenge than my middle-aged brain can handle. But, the online test for nerd status has proven what I've always believed, that I'm a smart-aleck and I know how it use it.
I am also perimenopausal. The ovaries are slowly running out of things to do. I'm well acquainted with irregular menstrual cycles, hot flashes, mood swings, and sometimes having the attention span and memory of a gnat. It goes with the hormonal territory, but I don't have to like it.
Being a perimenopausal nerd could be a dangerous combination. The potential for calculated revenge for taking my parking space is astounding. The line from Fried Green Tomatoes about being older and having more insurance also comes to mind. Fortunately, my grumbling is worse than my bite and my grumbling dies back fairly quickly. That doesn't mean the world is safe from my research loving, dwindling estrogen influence, however.
Now, shut up and open a window -- it's hot in here, even if it's not.
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