Memory Loss: How Menopause Puts Fogginess Into Your New Normal
Brenda Bishop had always been sharp. The kind of woman who could remember not only your birthday but what you were wearing when she met you twelve years ago. She was the human Google of her friend group — a walking archive of appointments, names, recipes, and every petty thing anyone had ever done to her.
Until menopause showed up and swiped her memory like an overzealous librarian with a vendetta.
When It All Began: A Regular Tuesday (Sort of)
It didn’t start all at once. First, it was little things — forgetting where she left her car keys or walking into a room and forgetting why. But it escalated quickly. Wildly. Hilariously. And occasionally, dangerously.
Like the day she tried to microwave her earrings.
Let’s rewind.
Mornings with Menopause Memory: Or the Lack Thereof
Brenda woke up with purpose. She had a list. A long one. She was going to run errands, attend a Zoom meeting, do some laundry, and maybe even try that TikTok dance her niece sent her.
She poured coffee into her cereal and stared at it for a solid minute.
“Okay,” she said aloud to no one. “That’s new.”
She dumped it out, made another cup, then promptly forgot where she left it. It would later be found in the linen closet, beside a pair of sunglasses and a partially peeled banana.
Shampoo, Rinse, Repeat — Repeat — Repeat
Unbothered, she showered, lotioned, and blow-dried her hair. Halfway through, she realized she hadn’t rinsed out her conditioner. So she rinsed again. And then reconditioned. And then forgot if she had reconditioned and did it again. Her hair was so slick, she could’ve passed for an otter.
The Errands of Chaos Begin
By the time she got dressed, she’d already changed clothes five times. She forgot where she was going, remembered she had laundry to fold, went to fold it, but saw her phone on the counter and remembered she hadn’t responded to that text.
From two weeks ago.
To her own mother.
She typed out a message, set the phone down, and wandered off to brush her teeth. With her face cream.
Mr. Whiskerface, her unimpressed cat, watched the entire production like a live-action sitcom.
The Grocery Store Gauntlet
Brenda left the house with unmatched shoes, sunglasses perched on her head (even though it was cloudy), and a purse with everything in it except her wallet.
At the grocery store, she was a hazard.
She stood in the produce section for twenty minutes trying to remember if she needed bananas. Then she bought twelve. Got home and realized she’d bought twelve yesterday too.
Her pantry now had 24 bananas, one confused avocado, and a bottle of hot sauce she swore was for “future cooking experiments.”
When she got home, she couldn’t find her keys. She tore through her purse, her pockets, the banana bag, even Mr. Whiskerface’s litter box.
The keys? Already in the door. Still in the lock.
She found them by accident. Four hours later.
Microwaving Earrings: A Menopause Milestone
Feeling accomplished for remembering dinner (roasted chicken and vegetables), Brenda decided to reheat her leftovers. But her ears felt cold.
Why? She wasn’t wearing earrings. She could’ve sworn she put them on. Maybe she did. Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe they were invisible?
So she did what made sense to her scrambled brain.
She put her earrings in the microwave to “warm them up.”
The sparks flew before her brain did.
Luckily, she remembered how to turn it off.
The fire alarm went off. Mr. Whiskerface leapt onto the fridge in terror. Brenda screamed, threw open the windows, and waved a towel like she was landing a plane.
The earrings were scorched. The chicken was forgotten. The smoke alarm was judging her from the ceiling.
The Neighbor Mix-Up
Another day, Brenda walked into her neighbor’s house, thinking it was hers. She even started unloading groceries into their fridge. The neighbor, bless her heart, just watched until Brenda tried to put almond milk into the dishwasher.
“You good, sis?”
Brenda blinked. “Wait. Where’s my flamingo?”
“You mean Denise?”
Brenda looked down at the inflatable flamingo in her cart. “Thank God. I thought I left her at Costco.”
They shared a laugh. Then Brenda promptly forgot the conversation and reintroduced herself ten minutes later.
The Repeating Story Hour
Brenda’s friends began noticing. She’d tell the same story three times in one brunch.
“And then I told that fool, ‘You must be out your damn mind—’”
“Brenda,” said her bestie Sherri. “You just told us that.”
“I did?”
“Yes. Five minutes ago.”
“Well buckle up, baby, because you’re about to hear the director’s cut.”
They laughed. But it stung.
Because even Brenda — bold, brilliant, unforgettable Brenda — was starting to feel… lost.
The Internet Rabbit Hole
She wrote lists. Left Post-Its. Set alarms on her phone. Then forgot what the alarms were for.
She once set a reminder titled “IMPORTANT” and when it went off, she stared at it like it was written in ancient Greek.
She Googled “Menopause and memory loss” and fell down a rabbit hole of articles, medical terms, and forums filled with women named Carol who had burned down toasters and forgotten entire children at soccer practice.
It didn’t make her feel better.
Until she read one comment: “Girl, if you’re reading this and you just forgot what you were doing, welcome to the club. We have wine and fans.”
Turning Memory Loss into Laugh Therapy
Brenda laughed. A real, snot-snorting, belly-gripping, mascara-smearing laugh.
Because yes, she was losing her mind — but she wasn’t alone.
So she started writing it all down. The banana stockpile. The shoe mix-up. The flamingo incident. She turned it into a blog post. Then another. Then a series.
She titled it: Memoirs of a Menopausal Madwoman.
Her tagline: “I can’t remember what I came here to do, but dammit, I’m doing it anyway.”
Brenda’s New Normal
Now, Brenda walks through her days armed with sticky notes, a backup pair of earrings, and zero shame. If she forgets your name, she’ll just make up one that suits your vibe.
“Hey there, Sparkle-Pants!”
She’s embraced the fog, the fumbles, the fiery hormone hurricanes. Because in the middle of the madness, there’s still laughter. Still style. Still Brenda.
Even if she occasionally introduces herself to her own mirror.
Can You Relate?
Have you ever:
- Forgotten what you were saying mid-sentence?
- Put your bra in the freezer?
- Called your dog “Alexa”?
You’re in good company.
Drop your favorite memory-loss moment in the comments below. Let’s normalize the madness — and laugh through it.
Because at Menopause Mega Mayhem, we may not remember your name…
But we’ll always remember how to laugh, look on the bright side, and wait for it all to get better…!!