DEAR DIARY

You do realise that I didn’t go to the dentist, don’t you? I stuffed my face with Paracetamol and the pain eventually disappeared but there is an echo every now and then. Oh I’m feeling old.

When is it that you actually step over the threshold between middle-age to old-age? Oh God, I’ve just realised that at 55 I’ve already gone past middle-age! So that’s answered my question I suppose…but I don’t get my old-age pension till I’m 65 – this must be limbo.

Technically I’ll be invisible for the next decade then; I am nothing; there is no label attached; is this where I go mad? I think I’m still too young for that; too young for spitting at teenagers, whacking them with my walking stick (which I haven’t got yet) or pushing them off buses…hey wait a minute, I’ve got a car, I don’t use buses. I could run them over.

Okay, maybe I have reached the mad stage but I think I arrived there twenty years ago, so what’s new? What’s new is the fact that after this imminent birthday I will be on the very WRONG side of fifty…heading for sixty faaassssssst!