(Nearly) Happy Birthday to Me

I am 34 tomorrow another year and in my mind I am officially Middle Aged. Well, at 70 your life is about over, so 35 is technically the Middle of your life. I stopped celebrating birthdays when I reached my quarter century, I think that was enough for me!

I sure don't feel 34...my mum brought it home to me the other week when she said "when I was your age I'd been married for 10 years and had 2 kids". HOLY COW! A lot of my ex-schoolfriends are also married, divorced, married and onto their second set of kids. Good Lord .... makes one feel a bit better.

I still can't imagine being married at the moment, and still do not EVER EVER want kids. Still feel like I'm in my mid-20s.

Off out on the whiskey tonight to "celebrate" so will be in a state tomorrow no doubt .....
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03 January
The TS returns!

Well I took my trusty Tartan Shopper into town again yesterday, but this time I did my hair and looked less like a Bag Lady. I needed the TS cos I was buying in a load of fleece and small padded dog beds for my latest moneymaking venutre (to be revealed soon).

I also ended up buying one of those "memoryfoam" ergonomic pillows, and some flat-packed plastic shelving - so you can imagine how wide I was as I staggered down the paths with a bulging fleece-packed TS, some shelving, and a square pillow carrybox.

So why is it that every bloody person who walked past me on the same path tried to walk through me???? Was I invisible? I checked for my reflection in a shop window and it was there. The paths were wide enough in most places for people to walk past me in single file. But no, bleeding Couples who refuse to NOT walk side by side holding hands just came straight at me - did they expect me to disappear into the wall or stop and flatten myself against it, so they could walk past me in their Couple Cuteness? P*ss off!

I moved over as much as I could but when there is enough room for the other people to get past me in single file, WHY SHOULD I move over? I stayed my ground and got glared at as people had to change position to walk past me, fat bags and all. Oh, the inconvenience to them! My bags were nudged and kicked as they swanned by, probably muttering under their breaths about "why didn't she move". COS I CAN'T BLOODY WALK THROUGH WALLS YOU MORON!