As I approach 40 like a bullet train and see my contemporaries worrying about middle age, grey hair, spare tires and their greedy longing for those lustful days of youth, I worry that I'm not worrying more. Is this because I still feel like I'm 21? Is it because I never really liked the 'company' of younger men? (yes yes, I know Darren is 4 years younger than me, stop interrupting). Or is it my staunch refusal to buy any nice furniture, curtains etc and behave like an 'adult' in our house? Whatever it is I hope it continues to keep me feeling like a randy 20 something with an obsession for rollercoasters and scooters and city holidays and punk rock and weird squigly electronica and French cinema and heaps of other stuff, forever.
While we're on the subject, this piece is really very good (thank you Swish). YOU WILL IDENTIFY.