I grow old

Up front disclaimer: apart from the aches I rather like growing old. And the worsening eyesight, the need for sleep, I never use to need sleep, apart from these things. And losing my train of thought, the sense that I’ve not always been the person I once imagined I would be. I know I haven’t. Not keen on death either, or more accurately the pain that often precedes it. And I’m trying to be less judgemental. But this thing about getting more so as you get older is complete bollocks. I think that must be my favourite swear word – in that I seem to use it a lot. On this blog anyway. But it is you know, bollocks, though you’re right to point out I would say that, wouldn’t I.