I am officially an old crone. I am just over a month away from 39 and that big four-oh is now an inevitable reality. As deluded and immersed in denial as I might sound, I don’t actually mind ageing – I was always the baby face and have always looked a lot younger than I am with my round apple cheeks, so call me nuts but I think I’ve finally grown into myself and look better with a bit of living etched on to me. I like my crow’s feet! I can even live with the lines across my forehead, doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I look at B and think the same thing. I’ve seen photos of him in younger days (he’s ten years older than I am) and he is miles better looking and attractive now, than e.g. in his 20s. He’ll still be a dish in his 60s and probably 70s too, he’s of that ilk of men who just stay hot no matter how old they get.
But back to signs of ageing. I need glasses. Went to the optician and I am, as I suspected, longsighted. My eyes are healthy and he told me I’d be fine without glasses, but my eyes have to work harder when I’m reading or am at a screen (which summaries most days – my life revolves around writing and reading!) so said I should have glasses in order to avoid deteriorating eyesight which is inevitable if you don’t take the strain off a little. So I chose a pair of chunky and very funky geek frames (possibly a little too trendy for a mature lady like me, but we’ll put that down to midlife crisis) and another more sensible pair that made me look like my mother. No problem with that though, my Mum’s gorgeous and normally I am the spit of my father so this is actually welcome news. I’m picking them up in a week. Oh well, I knew it was coming.
B is back this evening and I’ve decided I’m going to be a very brave bunny and pick him up. I’ve driven his car quite a few times, but never on my own, so the prospect of navigating myself all the way to Heathrow from here (although we’re at the right end of town and the airport’s only 15-20 minutes away if traffic’s OK) is quite daunting. I’m going to go out and drive around Chiswick for a while to build up my confidence. The route isn’t too bad though – get on to the M4, then I think you turn off a junction and then through a roundabout and you’re there. No turns or twists any more complicated than that.
I find it hard as I’m not used to driving on the wrong side of the road, plus sitting in what for me is the passenger seat, but at least it’s an automatic so I don’t need to faff around with gears – how hard can it be?