I am shattered, eating badly, getting fat and lacking sleep. However, after 2 and a half years of going to doctors, hospitals and having numerous operations, I finally got a clean bill of health from my Doctor today. Thanks Dr. M. (Of course, there is no thanks to Dr. S who is a bit of an A-hole), you fixed me!
I really must celebrate. I hope I can work up the energy, something I’ve been severely lacking. I wonder if it is the weather, or something more sinister (like laziness) but I have barely been able to get from A to B without giving myself a stern talking to and the promise of a chocolate donut at the other end.
I did have to run away from London this last week due to an age related incident so perhaps that is to blame. At what age does dementia and becoming a dottie old bird start to occur? I wonder at people who can continue to celebrate birthdays after a certain birthday. For me, as I ticked past 26 I realised I’d never be happy about it again.
It’s all downhill from thereon in, and also, all your friends start to get married and have kids (this week alone I just found out a friend from school is pregnant and a guy on my uni course has just had a son). So it becomes less about celebrating and more about people pointing and staring and using you as a warning to their now 10 year old kids:
“See that? That’s what we call a lonely old Spinster. You don’t want to become one of them. Do you hear?”
Still, I’ll give myself a few more years. After all, there’s still life in the old dog yet, and eventually people will start to get divorced and the taken men will become available again. I can then afford to be as picky as I am now because they’ll come with baggage and cracked and damaged hearts and will just want to find lasting true love to take them into their dotage.
Meanwhile, as I wait for these divorcees to flock to me, at least I have my health!