I don't know about you guys but I'm fecked. It's Saturday night and I could nor more drag my arse off the sofa, than scale the Empire State building. Honestly, by the end of a working week, by the time I have done all my goddamn chores that I never got done during the week (today: Up at 8, worked until after 12, showered, picked up new Macbook Pro that I am currently typing on - yay!!!! Take Sproglet to party, go shopping for Halloween party tat and present for kid for said party, wrap gift in car, pick up kid, bath time, eat some rubbish, tidy house, sit on arse) I am officially good for nothing.
Is this middle age?
The other day, while searching through my limited wardrobe - which gets smaller every year somehow, I realise I have no 'going out' clothes. No strappy dresses - mind you with my boobs, I never did wear strappy dresses - but no glam dresses, no sexy heels (or any heels really), no big earrings, no new lipsticks. Nothing a bit well, foxy. Or stylish. Or anything-ish. Everything is.... well, not verging on comfy - but definitely in the 'school run' category. As I plan my 40th - I fear that middle age may have hit. I no longer flick through Elle (who wants to look like Kristen Stewart and wear day glo make up?) or relate to any item in Topshop that isn't knitwear. I read weather reports, talk at parties about local good carpenters and school statistics, buy magazines on cooking hearty roasts, and take days off work - to go to the cinema with Husband. Not have rampant sex in some boutique hotel (who has the energy for that?) but stuff popcorn down our necks before gobbling a thai meal at a place we used to go to practically daily. Now it is a goddamn luxury.
I fantasise about walls in our home being painted and someone sorting out our Jurrassic park of a garden at the front. Instead of getting my nails painted and my own bush trimmed. In my head I am still young - I can fancy X factor boyband boys and rock a JW Anderson bat jumper, sink several bottles of wine with my 19 year old neighbour on the eve of her beginning at Uni - but in reality, a mixture of kids and a full time job - lack of time and lack of energy, means I am now... a bit lethargic.
Not quite verging on 'before' and 'after' photos - but not far off.
What about you? Are you still kickin' ass as you knock on 40? Or not even 40, just saddled with Sprogs, or a gruelling job? Or just lethargy? I used to be a gal about town and now I'm a gal about my sofa. I used to cartwheel in heels for fucks sake! Now I can't even stand in them... Thank god for remote controls is all I say.... Now for another glass of wine. If only there was remote for that.