The Great Brain Fog of Menopause
So there I am—morning at work, pretending I’ve got my life together—when I realise I can’t find one of the cabin keys.
You know… the ones guests need to get into their actual cabins.
Kinda important.
Very essential.
Absolutely gone.
I check the usual spots.
Key hook? Nope.
Desk drawer? Empty.
Key box? Just dust and regret.
The bin? Don’t judge me—I was desperate.
Nothing.
Now I’ve got half the team involved. Everyone’s crawling around on the floor, checking under chairs and behind doors like it’s some kind of episode of CSI: Caravan Park Edition.
And then…
Yep.
They’re in my pocket. Just chillin’. Left side. Haven’t moved. Haven’t made a sound. Like they didn’t just cause me twenty minutes of pure panic and a small crisis.
And what did I do?
I laughed. Because otherwise I might’ve screamed.
Or cried.
Or both.
Because brain fog is no joke.
Welcome to Perimenopause.
A.K.A. PEM—when your hormones throw a tantrum and your brain just shrugs and forgets why it walked into the room.
It’s like I’ve got tabs open everywhere and nothing’s loading.
Half the time I walk into a room and forget why I’m there.
The other half? I’m standing in front of the fridge just… staring.
Am I hungry? Am I lost?
No idea.
Here’s another PEM moment for the scrapbook:
My wife was cooking dinner and opened the garlic jar.
Inside? A spoon.
Spoon in. Lid on. Back in the fridge.
Why?
Nobody knows.
Could’ve been me. Could’ve been her.
Now we just look at each other and go,
“Was this you?”
“Could’ve been.”
No follow-up questions. No blame. You just stop trying to solve it.
Honestly, what is this stage of life?
I used to have a functioning brain.
I used to finish sentences without forgetting what I was saying halfway through.
It’s like my brain’s had enough of adulting and quietly checked out without warning. I used to finish sentences.
Now I start stories strong… and trail off like I’m buffering in real time.
Sometimes I just say, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” because I’ve got no bloody idea what I was talking about. And I wish I was joking—but if you’re in PEM too, you know.
You KNOW.
Brain fog isn’t just a quirky little moment of forgetfulness. It’s a full-blown, hazy, confusing mess that has you questioning everything—
Here’s the truth:
You’re not losing your mind.
You’re just in PEM.
And you’re absolutely not alone.
We’re all out here misplacing spoons, losing keys, forgetting entire conversations mid-sentence…
And somehow still functioning. Sort of.
On a good day.
With snacks.
So if you’ve ever found yourself searching the house for something that’s literally in your hand—or put the milk in the freezer and the remote in the pantry—you’re in the right place.
This is your foggy, fabulous corner of the internet.
We get it.
We’ve been there.
Hell, we are there.
Now if you’ll excuse me—I need to find my glasses.
Which, if history is any guide, are probably on my head.
Written by Shan, 46