As I stumble out of bed in the morning, heading with a fair measure of urgency for the bathroom, eyes blurred, back bent, knees creaking and toes curling but thankfully still able to take the necessary evasive action amidst the minefield of dog’s toys littered across the floor, I am minded of the saying - old age is not for wimps. How very true but having said that, the alternative is not yet acceptable, so we just have to get on with it. We must take our daily diet of pills and potions like good little pensioners – even if the side-effects are invariably worse than the ailments they’re intended to cure, put on a brave front and face the world with a smile.
But what a contrary world it is we are facing. Now it seems sugar is the big killer – it used to be smoking and we had enough trouble giving that up! Then salt – nearly as bad, now the tick boxes are focussed on obesity, cholesterol, diabetes and keeping the ticker tocking. All very depressing. I’ll never know how the human race has lasted this long.
Never mind, soon we’ll be carrying our own GP in our pocket with the new Samsung smartphone, keeping an eye on our every exertion. But by all accounts I fear it is destined to create a whole new race of hypochondriacs. I can see it now. Instead of men standing in supermarket isles bleating “I can’t find the baked beans dear”, we’ll be enlightened with “ Darling my mobile’s telling me I’m overdoing it. Can you come and finish the shopping?”
Then there are the never-ending troubles in the Middle East. As soon as one conflict dies down another one appears. Not to mention sabre rattling from that nice Mr Putin who gave us the Winter Olympics all the while casting his eyes on the Crimea.
Will this give fresh encouragement to Spain and Argentine to have another go at Gibraltar and the Falklands one has to wonder?
It wouldn’t be so bad if we could turn on the telly and forget about it all. But that’s gone mad too.
As soon as one soap pops off a character another one has to follow suit.
We’ve only just got over mourning Haley’s demise and now we have to put up with more gloom with Gemma’s doom. As for that bed-hopping Peter Barlow, what can I say?
Finally, I have it on not very good authority that sales of Sellotape have doubled since it was used to seal the mouths of a bunch of noisy pupils at a primary school in Somerset by a teacher at the end of her tether – and her career no doubt. I shall definitely carry a roll in my pocket next time I’m having a quiet cup of coffee in the Co-op.
Only joking ladies, I wouldn’t dream of it. Anyway superglue’s much more effective!