Bray People

Shock and despair! I’m now finally undergoing the cataclysmi­c evolution into an old woman

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T HERE HAVE been a few disturbing developmen­ts in my life of late and it has me worried. Very worried. Firstly I've started listening to Lyric fm, Now before any of you culture vultures start throwing your eyes up in despair, let me add, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Lyric fm. It is a delightful radio station...if you're 90!

The thing is, I've never been a classical music kind of girl. The only time I was brought to the opera, I fell asleep on my date and woke when people started climbing over me at the interval. I'm more an 80's pop person - a top of the pops, MTV, Fab Vinny sort, the type you see singing along behind the wheel of her car and sneaking peeks of herself in her rear view mirror.

But lately I find myself tuning into Lyric when I'm in the car because I find it soothing. I go to bed at 9pm, light scented candles and watch Call the Midwife and Mr. Selfridge because I find it soothing.

Last Sunday I found myself tucked up with my electric blanket, a Wispa (which I have to say are NOT the same anymore at all), the Sunday Times and Call the Midwife on the telly when I thought, ‘I am so happy. What could possibly make me happier?’

A cup of tea was the answer. Can you believe it? That's all I wanted, a cup of feckin tea, out of one of my soothing pale blue mugs, with two spoons of sugar and a good drop of milk. That would have completed my perfect Sunday evening.

None of this may seem worrying to you. But coming from a woman who used to wear hotpants, chase rock stars and defy authority at every available opportunit­y, this is cataclysmi­c.

OK so maybe wearing hotpants is out of the question these days, and maybe chasing rockstars is too (although I wouldn't like to rule that one out altogether!) but where is my oomph gone? My desire to do anything for a laugh, my mojo, my joie de vivre as one old friend describes it.

D OES THIS happen to everyone at a certain stage in their lives? One day they wake up and all of a sudden they are responsibl­e adults with family organisers, Tesco loyalty cards and a yearly subscripti­on to Good Housekeepi­ng? I don't particular­ly want to grow old disgracefu­lly but nor do I want to die of boredom!

Of course this could just be a temporary glitch. Himself has complete faith in me and puts it down to the January Blues. ‘You'll be back chasing rockstars, and singing along to Larry Gogan in no time.’

He did admit however he was a bit concerned when I started wearing polo necks a few weeks back and was going to suggest I talk to someone. ‘I always know you're not yourself when the cleavage gets put away,’ he informs me referring to my bosom as if it was a car being put in the garage.

I just said ‘ bosom'! It's time to turn off Mr. Selfridge methinks and go root out that wonderbra. Sometimes the answers are just staring us in the face!

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