This week a number of things have happened that have brought it home to me just how old I am now. Properly middle aged. I am pretty sure I won’t see 90 so 45 really is the hump in the middle of my life. And not in a maudlin way but this week I have been thinking about the signs I am getting old.
The first sign being that as I sat and thought at these signs this week I had to write them down because an hour later I had forgotten them and when I looked in my little notebook (look there’s another sign, carrying a notebook around with me. Though I like to think I am actually Kalinda from the Good Wife) I found myself saying “oh yes, that’s right, I remember now”.
So what are the other signs?
Hearing the wind blowing a hoolie all this week and thinking that this means it is an ideal time to get all the beds stripped and washed and out on the line to dry. That my first thoughts are about what an ideal drying day it is.
Films like Pretty Woman are 25 years old. TWENTY FIVE YEARS OLD. I remember when that came out. Ditto Breakfast Club which is now thirty years old.
That thirty year ago seems like such a long time ago, and yet thirty years ago I was 15, almost 16 and about to leave school. That is it is thirty years since you were at school.
Friends announcing on Facebook that they were born in 1981 and you think “holy crap I had been at secondary school for a whole year then, how can you and I possibly be friends?”. Born in 1981. That just doesn’t make sense to me.
When the greatest joy I have had all week is from de-scaling the tea maker. It is no longer murky brown but oh so shiny stainless steel again. And I looked at it alot. And dont’ want to use it for fear of it becoming murky brown again.
At a gig recently I asked for a cup of tea at the interval (yes the gig has an interval) rather than alcohol. A cup of tea. Seriously?
Staying in has become the new going out. I just can’t be bothered alot of the time. The faff of not only having to get ready but the travel, the parking, the crowds, it all just seems a bit too much. Staying at home with a cuppa makes more sense.
Rather than lying in bed when I wake up, I get up because “I don’t want to waste the day”. In fairness I usually have a million things to get done that day and my mind is already trying to work out how on earth I am going to get them all done before my feet have even set foot on solid ground. But why can’t I just lie in bed a bit longer like any sane person?
Preparation for a foreign holiday includes getting car washed. The idea that we are going away for a long weekend with a dirty car is no longer acceptable. Does that make me old or just odd? Oh and that paying £20 for somebody else to do it rather than doing it myself seems to make perfect sense.
When you read back over a list of reasons why you are getting old and three things revolve around tea. Not wild drunken frivolity, but tea.
Can I stop this ageing process? I know I can by anti-wrinkle cream or dye hair to get rid of the greys but funnily those signs of ageing don’t bother me. And actually the more I think about it the more the signs above don’t either. So that is probably another one, isn’t it? A quiet resignation of the inevitable rather than a determination to halt the slide.
Anyone for a cuppa?