I don’t like being 38.
I wish I could have frozen my age at 33 or 34, that is seriously thd sweeg spot.
34 was good, but I’m loving being 48 … zero fucks to give, so I have fun where I can :-)
Now we get to dread (peri)menopause. And I’m 40, so I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to get my first boob squish this year.
Some days I really miss the dirty, sweaty club days but then I remember how much I’d rather chill in bed with a cup of tea and a nerdy show from the same era. Just thinking about how much that would hurt tomorrow is enough to make me never want to go out again.
I went clubbing on Friday night. For reference I’m 48.
Still danced lots, got chatted up, made new friends on my way home and got drunk.
I spent a chunk of Saturday in bed reading a book in order to recover - best of both worlds if you ask me!
I always get envious when these stories come up, my friends were almost all wilder than I
