Ageing

Most of the time, I forget I’m 41. Hell, most of the time I have to work it out when someone asks how old I am.  No-one ever believes I’m the age I am, and most people seem to estimate it as mid-30s (or less than 12, depending on my behaviour at the time) which is fine with me.  Fact is, people have been estimating my age as mid-30s since I was early 20s, so I suppose I’m aging fairly well in general – although I must’ve been fuck-rough at 20.

My hair’s been going grey since mid-20s, and that doesn’t really bother me. My mum went grey early on – less charitable souls could observe that might be related to having me – so it’s always been expected.

Recently though, there’ve been other signs of ageing, and I can’t deny, my own sense of vanity (small though it is) rebels against them.

Firstly it’s been the hair growing on my ears – what the hell is that about? For some reason I now get long hairs growing on the top of my ears, and rounds the edges. I don’t see the point of it, but there we go. It’s annoying- to me – but I’m sure no-one else cares.

And now the grey hairs are appearing elsewhere. Eyebrows first – and man do they show up! And now today, I discovered the latest ignominy – I’m even getting grey chest-hairs. Obviously they’re less publicly visible, but all the same, it’s just a bit depressing, all these combining signs that I truly am getting older…