Old Age Cometh

1. I just adjusted the font on my blog to 9pt instead of 8pt, because the latter made me all squinty. I have enough lines around my eyes, kthx. πŸ˜›

2. I’m sitting here muttering to myself that a pound cake didn’t turn out as I would have liked, which means that I wasted four organic eggs and 250g of organic butter. Of course that 250g of butter just may have something to do with the greasy mess that was the pound cake. About half an hour ago I had a slice of it, toasted, and my plate is now dotted with congealed yellow globs of fat. I’m sure I’ve brought forward my impending heart attack by six months or so. Anyway, since when was I such a pantry miser? I don’t think it all is due to my decision to buy as much organic as possible.

3. Putting on jammies that make me look lumpy and sitting in front of the fire with a cat sounds infinitely more appealing than dolling up in heels and fishnets and pretending that I’m a sexual person. As I’m not 30 yet, I’m pretty sure I should find that depressing.

4. I’m reading about the US credit crunch/exchange rates/markets with much more interest than I ever would have. That is to say I actually read them and don’t skip straight to the stories about cats chasing bears up trees.

5. I have longer and more involved conversations with my cats than I do with my peers.

6. I appreciate the merits of a cereal with some fiber and only buy cinnamon toast crunch once a year or so when I’m feeling absolutely devilish.

7. I fret about the state of my back more than my weight.

8. In Marks and Spencer, when browsing for trousers, I wandered into the old lady section and didn’t immediately recognize the fact. In fact it look my noticing on a pair I was considering that the entire back half of the waistband was elastic to make me sharply raise my head and note my whereabouts.

9. Thick, wooly tights are taking up the drawer space where I used to keep Victoria’s Secret garter belts and thigh-highs.

10. Not since pregnancy have naps beckoned so seductively and so frequently.

Speaking of which..think I’ll find another sweater to throw on and wander over to the sofa.


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7 Responses to “Old Age Cometh”

  1. Anonymous Says:

    Oh I’m laughing too hard. Except I just turned 31 and it’s my husband that can’t seem to accept that. He does keep trying to fill my closet space with Victoria Secret finds. I keep putting on the flannel pants and wool socks.
    I had this idea that my kids would see me as being so young. But I just realized that they won’t remember the young me. They’ll only remember the old me since I’ll be old when they start paying attention!


  2. Anonymous Says:

    Statcounter.com led me to your blog and I’m glad it did. You sound so much like me and while reading this post I wanted nothing more than to put on thick socks, grab a heating pad, and cover up. LOL. I think we’re much to young to feel this darn old but I guess that is what makes us unique right? πŸ˜‰

    • Anonymous Says:

      Duh that last comment was mine, sorry this is Jo from Life With Heathens.

      • rosgen Says:

        Hello, very nice of you to drop by :). And yes, ‘unique’ is a nice way of putting it. Particularly on days I’m feeling *really* dumpy and can come up with a long list of less flattering adjectives ;).

  3. moknits Says:

    hahahahahahahahaha!!!! You. You could seriously have a regular musings column in the paper, beloved sister of mine. Except unlike Peggy Hill, people would actually love your style. πŸ™‚

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