My eyes were opened yesterday.
I caught up with an old friend over drinks last night. We hand’t seen each other in over two years, so we were long overdue an evening of chat.
While a pub would be our usual port of call, it was a Friday night and my sudden – and unexpected – gut reaction was to suggest meeting at my club instead, which would be a virtual ghost-town by 6pm on a Friday.
I was delighted when he shared my perspective and we agreed that a packed and noisy London pub wasn’t very high on our shared list of places to be on a Friday.
We’re definitely getting old…
We ticked off a few other check-boxes on the “you know you’re getting old when…” list by discussing how nice it was to have the bar to ourselves, how quiet it was, how everyone we know is having (multiple) babies and the challenges of school reunions.
Earlier in the day, I caught myself discussing the merits of vacuum-packed clothing storage with a client and the challenges of rotating our wardrobes on a seasonal basis.
I’m boring myself just typing that sentence.
I used to actively disrupt routines and found habits suffocating. Now, I sink into routine like it’s a warm duvet (bed reference!) and seriously dislike it when, for whatever reason, I can’t stick to my comfortable habits.
I can’t remember the last time I had a late Friday night out.
I’m also noticing other people’s age for the first time. I remember my shock last week on learning my physiotherapist is ten years younger than me.
And I’m not even going to elaborate on my disappointment at the grey hairs I’m discovering…Or the fact that bed time seems to be getting earlier and earlier.
Let’s examine the evidence:
- I don’t own slippers (A good thing)
- I don’t drink cocoa in bed (A good thing)
- I can’t remember the last time I danced in a club (A bad thing)
- I involuntarily grunt as I sit down or stand up (A bad thing)
- People have offered me their seat on the tube. For no obvious reason (A very, very bad thing)
- I own not one, but two tweed jackets (Undecided, as tweed is on trend at the moment)
While physical ageing is an inevitability, attitudinal ageing shouldn’t be. Time for me to shake it up and remember what it was like to take a risk and do things differently. While I’m hurtling towards the milestone age of forty like a runaway train, I don’t need to act like it, do I?
I’ll just need to ease into it.
You can’t be too careful, you know?