I could log these brain farts I’ve been having as senior moments, but my oldest friends will tell you I’ve always been away with the fairies. So there is little hope for me now.
Perhaps, constantly sweating over creating new plotlines, means I am beginning to lose my own?
I think a break will do me good.
And when you reach that woman of a certain age status, you’re body is hijacked by menopausal madness. Suddenly you’re itchy, bitchy, sweaty, sleepy, bloated and psycho as your oestrogen levels plummet.
So how come I can remember what my homework was when I was eleven and I can’t remember which floor of the multi-story car park I left my car an hour earlier? Decreased blood flow to the brain, apparently, so I’m off to see if I can remember how to stand on my head to precipitate a rush of blood to my brains.
I watched the sunrise yesterday, as I often do. My writing day starts at dawn. It’s the time of day my brain seems to creatively engage. I threw back the curtains to greet the dawn on the day that marked yet another year since my arrival on the planet.
I am relieved I have reached the age when I no longer feel I have to make a fashion statement … my wardrobe consists of what I can get into on any given day … but how I look will always be a reflection of who I am.
I had a couple of glasses of wine last night and I only remembered about Lent this morning after having eaten four biscuits with my coffee. Biscuits and wine. I was supposed to be giving up both these indulgences until 13th April. Too late now. I must try to remember next year. I might have remembered, had I eaten pancakes yesterday, but I didn’t because I am on a diet.
I never needed to do make lists. I used to juggle my to-do list in my head which was bursting with the ultra-productive grey matter. Now the grey matter seems to have turned into white mush, so I need to make lists but, I also need to remember to look at them. Continue Reading
Opening your fridge door to find your confused but well fed cat suffering from a mild case of hyperthermia or when you start leaving your bunch of keys in your the door when you go shopping.
As I grow older I often wonder whether, knowing what I know now, I would like to start my life all over again? Probably not, but one thing I would like back is my body … Lean, svelte and supple … Actually I would settle for my knees up to the age of 50, Continue Reading