Old, Old, Old

It’s become rather difficult to ignore the ageing process. Things now appear on me that weren’t there before. Eyes look a bit rubbish. Starting to see crow’s feet and lines under my eyes. All not good. And this really annoying jowelly shape is getting more pronounced, with lines either side of my mouth. I obsess over them, but they’re only getting worse.

This used to be the traditional birthday month. It is no longer. After last year’s shenanigans, I decided that I would never celebrate my birthday in July again.

To be honest, I don’t even want to celebrate a birthday ever again anyway.

Trouble is that other people disagree. Most people know my birthday is in July and so insist on telling me I should be happy. I’m not. I do my absolute minimum to not cause offence, but I wish they’d get the message. Of course they won’t. They’re my family and love me. They don’t understand, not without me telling them, and then they’ll think I’m going a bit daft.

At least my partner understands. We know it’s stupid, but we talk about other people having got my birthday wrong. We know it’s in November.

Either way, it’s mid summer and the year is flying by. Another year of lines on the face.

Now that’s a good point to finish.