I'm still alive

I’m just dull. These days I don’t really do much worthy of blogging about. I work, I study and in between I hang out at home and play word games. It’s safe to say I’ve turned over a new leaf, or perhaps a really old leaf? Instead of going out, getting trashed and running amok, my Saturday nights now consist of homemade pizza, lemon cordial and Rockwiz, except when I’m feeling particularly rowdy and I bust out Sing Star.

I am officially a nanna. I drink Port, I read cookbooks, I have ‘my programs’ I watch on tele and I am thrilled my native animals. The only shopping I do is for groceries and I get excited when they bring out a new fabric softener scent. I have flybuys and collect dockets. I wear slippers. I use placemats and coasters. I wear my mum’s hand-me-downs because wearing grandma’s was causing problems in my relationship and some of my dresses are ‘for good’.

And the really wrong thing about all this, is that I am completely content doing it. I am at least twice the size as when I got home from Japan and I regularly leave the house without looking in the mirror. I look at the trendy young things at uni bemused, I have a sneaking suspicion many of them are wearing their ‘for good’ clothes to uni. Meanwhile I have only just resisted the urge to wear my tracksuit pants, ugg boots and mum’s knitted jumper.

At uni, Ang and I have to sit up the front because I can’t see the board from up the back and we are total mature age students. I start my assignments sometimes up to a week before they are due and I would be completely devastated with a simple pass mark. I go in early so I can have a coffee before my lectures and I only had a beer at lunch once last semester.

Where is this all leading? What am I going to do when I actually am old? Am I destined for bingo and embroidery? Michael Buble and lap blankets? And why don’t these prospects terrify me? Rather than fighting these elderly urges, I am embracing the nanna within. Grandma’s bake wicked cookies and some nanna’s drink gin.