I’ve got a very vivid perimenopause horror story for you today, so get excited. Alisa Kennedy Jones writes: “I was in the car with my bestie, Merridy, when it hit. Something — someone — absolutely reeked. I’d just showered. I discreetly sniffed my pits and got a hint of powdery scent. Still, the smell of musky-cheese-poop was enough to melt my glasses right off my face. It was the worst BO I’d ever experienced in my life, and I’d grown up with seriously stinky brothers who, to this day, still reek of filthy jockstraps and overcooked Brussels sprouts. This was much worse.”

It wasn’t road kill, or a weeks-long sanitation workers’ strike. It was her best bud. And this is how they both learned about one of the many fun side effects that possibly await us all as we approach perimenopause. You’ll definitely want to read this one, and maybe stock up on some extra-strength deodorant.

Kelly Faircloth, Executive Editor