Thinking Out Loud

Wishing my life away

Anyone else feel like they’re wishing their life away? “Only one more term of this school year left to go.” Whaaaat?! I still think of ages in school years – if you were born between September 1982 and August 1983 then we are kindred spirits. Age, schmage, when did you do your GCSEs? Class of ’99 you are my people.

I don’t think I’m ready for 2018 yet and it’s well and truly underway. I can’t keep up with the politics (WT actual F are they thinking?) or the fashion (did you hear that the scrunchie is back? The bloody scrunchie!)

I’ve said before that I’m not into the whole “they grow too quick” rhetoric. I’m fine with my kids getting older and more independent, that’s cool. It’s the rest of the world I can’t handle. I’ve been in my “new” job for more than 3 years and I still think I’m the new girl. I was in uni for 3 years and that felt like a lifetime. In a good way.

On a positive note, I’ve embraced body positivity so I’m no longer wishing away weeks at a time with that “when I’ve lost a stone” type of thinking but I’m still clinging to the magical payday with “I’ll book those tickets at the end of the month” or “just a week to go until I buy those shoes.” I’m no Imelda Marcos, I’m not binging on a shoe flavoured shopping spree. I have holes in the soles of my leather boots, rips in the heels of my Primark hi-top daps and snapped laces in my other boots. 

Does time go faster as you get older? Maybe it’s because I’m flailing about with no major life marker in the year, no more children, no career change, no wedding, no big birthday. I’m sure there’s some motivational meme out there about enjoying each day. I do something every day that scares me (answering the phone, checking the front door’s locked at night, getting in lifts). Carpe diem and all that even if your boots are falling apart and time is going too fast.

 

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