A Day in Menopause · A Hormonal Comedy by Nurit Rozenblat
Chapter Six: 11:23 — I Know You. Just Don't Ask Me From Where.
At 11:23 Dana decided to leave the house.
After a night of hot flashes, insomnia, a morning of mood swings, exhaustion, itching, and a belly that had swollen without asking permission, she felt she deserved some time out of the house.
"Eyal, let's go out for a bit."
"Where?"
"Doesn't matter. The main thing is to get out."
Eyal put down his phone.
"Are you sure? An hour ago you said you want to stay home all day."
"And twenty-five years ago I said I want to marry you. People change their minds."
Eyal smiled.
"Which of the two do you regret?"
"Depends how many more questions you ask."
He got up to get the keys.
At 11:51 they entered the shopping mall.
Dana felt a little better. The air, the movement, and the fact that she wasn't surrounded by laundry and cushions that needed arranging did her good.
They passed a few shops when a woman in a colorful dress stopped in front of them.
"Danaaaa!"
Dana turned around.
The woman opened her arms and ran to her enthusiastically.
"Dana! How wonderful to see you!"
Before Dana could react, she was already inside a hug.
"Wow, how long it's been!"
Dana smiled.
"Wow! Really!"
She had no idea who this was.
Not the faintest idea.
The woman stepped back a little and held both her hands.
"You look wonderful!"
"Thanks! You too!"
Who is that? Dana asked herself.
I have no idea.
You're supposed to be the voice that knows things.
I'm your inner voice, not the Ministry of Interior.
The woman looked at Eyal.
"And this must be your husband!"
"Yes!" Dana said with exaggerated enthusiasm. "This is Eyal!"
"So nice to meet you, Eyal!"
"Nice to meet you," Eyal said.
Dana looked at him with the look married couples develop over the years.
A look that says: help me.
Eyal returned a look that says: with what?
Dana widened her eyes slightly.
Eyal raised an eyebrow.
The woman kept talking.
"I can't believe we ran into each other like this! Just yesterday I was thinking about you!"
"Really?" Dana said.
"Yes! Because of what we talked about last time!"
Dana smiled.
"Of course."
What did we talk about last time?
First find out when the first time was.
"So, what did you decide?" the woman asked.
Dana felt the conversation was moving too fast.
"About what exactly?"
The woman laughed.
"You know!"
"Ah, yes, of course."
"Well?"
Dana looked at Eyal.
Eyal looked at a shop window.
Traitor.
"I'm still thinking about it," Dana said.
The woman nodded enthusiastically.
"Of course! It's a big step!"
Dana nodded too.
"Very big."
"And Eyal agrees?"
Dana turned to him.
Eyal raised his head.
"Agrees to what?"
The woman burst out laughing.
"Oh, you two are hilarious!"
Dana smiled a frozen smile.
"Yes. We're a very entertaining couple."
The woman leaned closer to Dana and lowered her voice.
"Tell me, did you tell him?"
Dana froze.
"Tell him what?"
"You know, about the plan!"
Dana felt her belly contract.
Not the bloating again.
This time from fear.
What plan?
What plan does she have with a woman she doesn't recognize?
And what on earth is Eyal not supposed to know?
"Not yet," she said carefully.
The woman's eyes widened.
"Really?!"
"Yes."
"Wow. You're brave."
Dana smiled a small smile.
"I try."
"I could never do it without telling my husband."
Eyal turned to them.
"Do what?"
The woman put a hand on Dana's arm.
"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to get you into trouble!"
Dana wanted to disappear into the shoe shop next door.
"No, no, everything's fine."
Eyal crossed his arms.
"I'm beginning to think it isn't."
The woman laughed.
"I see you haven't changed!"
Dana laughed too.
She didn't know what was more worrying: the fact that she didn't recognize the woman, or the fact that the woman knew her well enough to know she hadn't changed.
"Listen," the woman said, "I have to run. But send me a message, okay? I want to know if you're still in."
"Of course!"
"And give my regards!"
"To whom?"
The woman stopped.
Dana stopped.
Eyal stopped.
Three seconds of silence.
"To the girls, of course!" the woman said.
"Ah! Of course! To the girls!"
The woman hugged her again.
"Love you!"
"Me too!"
The woman walked away, waved goodbye, and disappeared among the people.
Dana remained standing.
Eyal looked at her.
She looked at him.
"Who was that?" he asked.
"I have no idea."
Eyal burst out laughing.
"Dana!"
"What?"
"You hugged her twice!"
"What did you want me to do? Ask for an ID card?"
"She said she loves you!"
"I said it too!"
"You don't know who she is!"
"I love people, Eyal. What's the problem?"
He laughed so hard he had to stop next to a bench.
Dana crossed her arms.
"It's not funny."
"You're right," he said, still laughing. "It's worrying. My wife is leading a secret life with a woman she doesn't know."
Dana tried to keep a serious face.
She couldn't.
"Eyal, I swear to you I've seen her once. I just can't remember where."
"Do you want us to run after her?"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Because then she'll ask why we ran after her, and I'll have to invent something else."
They sat down on the bench.
Dana opened her phone.
"I'll look for her in my contacts."
"How?"
"What do you mean, how?"
"You don't know her name."
Dana stopped.
"Right."
Eyal smiled.
"You can search under 'a woman I love and don't know'."
Dana burst out laughing.
"You're enjoying this too much."
"I'm trying to understand what the secret plan is."
"Me too!"
"And if she sends you a message?"
"Then I'll know her name."
"And if she asks what you decided?"
"I'll say I consulted my husband."
"And what did your husband decide?"
Dana looked at him.
"That he has no idea."
Dana, it could be connected to brain fog.
"Now you remember to speak?"
During the transition to menopause, some women experience difficulties with concentration, word retrieval, and memory. Hormonal fluctuations may contribute to this, as can lack of sleep and stress. After the night you had, it's no surprise you feel less sharp.
"Less sharp? I just told a strange woman I love her."
She isn't necessarily a stranger. You just can't remember who she is.
"That doesn't improve the situation."
But such a moment doesn't by itself indicate a serious memory problem. If memory difficulties are new, worsening, or interfering with functioning, it's important to consult a doctor and not assume it's all hormonal.
"And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
Sleep better when possible, reduce overload, keep up physical activity, and write down important things. And sometimes simply admit you don't remember.
Dana thought for a moment.
"You know what? Next time I'll really say I don't remember."
Excellent idea.
"As long as it isn't Eyal's mother."
Then you'd better prepare a suitcase.
At 12:08 Dana's phone rang.
A message from a number that wasn't saved.
"Dana love! How wonderful it was to see you! I'm still laughing about our conversation 😂 Update me about Thursday. Kisses, Ronit."
Dana sat up straight.
"Ronit!"
Eyal turned around.
"You remembered?"
"Yes! Ronit!"
"Who is Ronit?"
Dana looked at the screen.
"I don't know."
Eyal bent forward, holding his belly with laughter.
"Dana, that's just her name!"
"Wait a moment!"
She opened the old conversation.
Scrolled up.
One message.
And another.
And suddenly she remembered.
"Oh, no."
Eyal stopped laughing.
"What?"
"Oh, no, no, no."
"What happened?"
Dana looked at him.
"It's Ronit from the workshop."
"Which workshop?"
"Theater workshop."
Eyal blinked.
"You go to a theater workshop?"
"No."
"Then why does she know you?"
"Because a month ago I was at a lecture, and she sat next to me. We talked during the break."
"And what did you talk about?"
Dana swallowed.
"That I'd always wanted to try acting."
Eyal smiled.
"Nice."
"And she told me she's organizing an evening of short pieces."
"Nice."
"And I said maybe I'd come to watch."
"Excellent."
Dana looked at him.
"Not to watch."
Eyal stopped.
"What?"
"To participate."
He stared at her.
Dana kept scrolling.
And then read aloud the last message she had sent Ronit a month ago:
"Sounds funny! If you need someone for the role of a woman in a midlife crisis, I can do it with my eyes closed 😂"
Eyal looked at her.
"Well?"
Dana raised her eyes to him.
"Ronit wrote me that she's saving the role for me."
"And you?"
"I wrote her 'Deal.'"
Eyal burst out laughing.
"You're going to act in the theater!"
"No!"
"On Thursday!"
"I'm not going!"
"In the role of a woman in a midlife crisis!"
Dana looked at him.
"Can you stop laughing?"
"I'm trying!"
"It's not funny!"
Eyal leaned back, wiped tears from his eyes, and said:
"Dana, you don't need to learn the role. You've been in rehearsals since last night."
Dana tried to be angry.
Really tried.
But then she imagined herself standing on a stage in front of an audience, trying to remember the text.
She started to laugh.
"I won't even remember the lines!"
Eyal smiled.
"Say it's experimental theater."
"And if I forget what I'm supposed to do?"
"Just stand there and look at the audience."
"And then?"
"And then say, 'I know I came here for something important, but I have no idea what.'"
Dana laughed until her belly hurt.
"Eyal, you're terrible!"
"No. I'm your husband. And I demand a front-row ticket."
At 12:17 Dana opened Ronit's message again.
She started typing:
"Dear Ronit, I'm really sorry, but…"
Stopped.
Deleted.
Typed again:
"Dear Ronit, how wonderful it was to see you! About Thursday…"
Stopped again.
Eyal peeked at the screen.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to think how to get out of this."
"Why get out? Maybe you'll enjoy it."
Dana looked at him.
"Do you really think I should go on stage?"
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not an actress."
"You've been married to me for twenty-five years and you manage to pretend you're listening to my stories about the car. You have experience."
Dana smiled.
"You know what? Maybe I really will go."
Eyal raised an eyebrow.
"Seriously?"
"Yes. At most I'll make a fool of myself."
"That's exactly what people pay to see."
Dana gave him a light smack on the shoulder.
She went back to the message and typed:
"Dear Ronit, how wonderful it was to see you! I'm in. Just send me the details again."
She pressed send.
Eyal looked at her proudly.
"Well done."
Dana smiled.
And then the phone beeped.
Ronit answered:
"How wonderful!!! Just a small reminder — it's an improv evening. No text, no rehearsals. You go on stage and invent everything on the spot!"
Dana read the message.
Once.
Twice.
And then slowly raised her head.
"Eyal."
"What?"
"There's no text."
"Great."
"There are no rehearsals."
"Even better."
"You have to invent everything on the spot."
Eyal smiled a wide smile.
"Dana, you do that with me every day."
She looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
"You ask me a question, I answer, and then you inform me the answer was wrong even though I didn't know what the question was."
Dana burst out laughing.
Eyal got up from the bench and held out his hand.
"Come, actress. Let's go eat something."
Dana took his hand and stood up.
"Do you know what's most beautiful in this whole story?"
"What?"
"That in the end something good came out of my forgetting who she is."
"Right."
"And I'm even going to try something new."
"Right."
They started walking.
After a few steps Dana stopped.
"Eyal?"
"Yes?"
"What day did she say it is?"
"Thursday."
"Right."
They kept walking.
After a moment Dana asked:
"And what day is today?"
Eyal looked at her.
"Saturday."
Dana smiled.
"Great. I have time to prepare."
Eyal stopped.
"Dana."
"What?"
"It's an improv evening."
"Right."
"There's nothing to prepare."
Dana thought for a moment.
"You're right."
She kept walking.
And then turned to him.
"But maybe I should prepare a few sentences anyway."
Eyal raised his eyes to the sky.
"I already pity the audience."
The time was 12:23.
Dana had left the house to clear her head a little.
Came back with a role in the theater.
Eyal still didn't know whether his wife suffered from brain fog or had simply started a new career without updating him.
And Dana?
She was already planning what to wear to the performance.
Only one thing still troubled her.
Tell me, if I go on stage and forget what I wanted to say, does that count as improv?
Absolutely.
So maybe I'm a natural-born actress.
Or at least since you started menopause.
End of Chapter Six.
Continued in Chapter Seven: 12:36 — Don't Make Me Laugh, This Is Not the Time!
© 2026 Nurit Rozenblat. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed without the author's prior written permission.
