The Emergence of the Big 'M'

I woke up drenched in sweat... again. The wet, sticky, hair plastered to the back of my neck kind of sweat. I thought about changing out my top... again, but I was so tired, I just did the chicken-flap with my nightie, waving it around under the covers in a feeble attempt to get some air into the damp recesses of my body. I know. It sounds gross. And it is. Welcome to menopause.
I'm 47 and I think I'm entering what's called peri-menopause. I'm right on the cusp, just beginning the spiral into soaked sheets, hot flashes, rabid mood swings and sex drive disturbances. My body has somehow started to build fat in areas I didn't even know could BE fat. I'm not on any menopausal drugs--no HRTs yet (hormone replacement therapy), no regular anxiety meds (although popping a Xanax every now and then sure sounds good as of late)--and while I'm sure that's all to come as I continue this unasked for journey, I thought maybe blogging about it from start to finish, that is if it ever ends, might be therapeutic.
This blog is dedicated to menopause, a kind of homage to the emergence of the crone (more on this later). My partner is going through it too and we're planning to kind of of tag-team our experience, although she's a little further into it than I am. Imagine, two women sharing the joy! It'll either be hysterical or horrific--or both--but it'll probably never be boring.