I’m days away from being a year older, which is a strange thing to say as I spent all year becoming a year older in daily increments since my last diabolical but enchanted birthday. If anything, because of the events of my last b-day, I should probably be avoiding making a fuss at all on this day, just in case I jinx myself. I was all set to return to Venice with a friend for a few days over the forthcoming summer break, but unfortunately she succumbed to the Venice curse and has become ill. It’s last year all over again, just not happening to me this time – thank god! (of course not so nice for my friend who I’m actually quite worried about.)
We may go away yet, but she’s been told by the doctor that she must not fly. That’s fine, plenty of other ways to get about (deep breath).I hate long coach and ferry journeys, in fact any journey that requires me to sit for longer than a couple of hours at a time. I have done this kind of travelling to death, and to be honest I couldn’t think of anything more soul destroying. However, being with a good friend who is as dry witted as me might just take the edge off of it. We can laugh our way through the pain and the ensuing numbness of a bum not designed to be sedentary, at least not this bum!
I’m starting to go grey in places that I really didn’t want, but it’s not so visible that I can’t pass for being at least ten years younger still, which is encouraging. It means that people don’t speak louder when they address me yet, in an effort to engage that one brain cell I might still have rattling around my over-sized but empty genius brain, that and the obligatory deaf ears one seems to develop with encroaching years. Where does the genius come from then I hear you ask? Probably got it from a christmas cracker, that and fake plastic moustache. At least that won’t go grey.
Genius is a funny thing. It would seem that most famous geniuses were highly neurotic to one degree or another, hence the term “mad genius”, in which case that describes me down to a T, except for the famous bit. However, most of the time I can’t really be bothered to be as neurotic as I once used to be as a youngun, another sign of age setting in, it’s just too much effort. So these days such neurotic thoughts like my house being levelled by a gas explosion because I haven’t checked the cooker knobs (I can be rather absent minded at times… another sign of old age), are quickly dismissed as taking up too much thought space. Too much going on in there already without having to entertain fanciful notions of Armageddon!
Phbrrr… what to do?
I could do with an afternoon nap right now even though it’s only just gone 11am. Maybe I’ll go and dye my eyebrows with an indelible black marker pen (tut… you didn’t think I was referring to anything else way back up there did you?) Naughty blogging types!
(Funny how Groucho Marx manages to creep back in there!)
Have a bloomin’ marvellous day you lot, and if you come across a stray brain cell on your journeys today, could you mail it back to me ASAP? Thanks!
Image courtesy of the internet (accessed 12/07/2013): http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/02369/badger_2369182b.jpg