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Barmaid | 21:52 Sat 04th May 2024 | ChatterBank
34 Answers

25 years ago, I'd just be getting ready to go out. Very high heels were always part of the attire. I had some wicked shoes.

Now I am curled up on the sofa in a comfy cardy and jeans wanting to go to bed but thinking "If i go to bed now Ill be awake at four". I'm looking for shoes on the Internet. I see flats or orthopedic ones and think "oh those look comfy"!

So much for growing old disgracefully. 

What are your signs you are maturing?

 

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I don't have any.  I refuse to age (at least in my mind)

I'm doing my best to grow old disgracefully - but my knees hurt.

Oh! And Drs. keep summoning you or your OH for a blood test.

Successful novelists are dying with plaudits in the papers whilst I am still scribing away.

Plus side - I know more about the pains and problems of others and can be of some use to help us all get by.

Like 237SJ I otherwise refuse to acknowledge that I am getting older.  If only I could convince my knees!!!!!!

What'a that you say  "3rd hip replacement." Pshaw - a mere bagatelle and pebble on the vast beach of life.

I keep going to the loo

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In my head I am still a lot younger, but heck when I last put on a pair of 4 inch heels my bunions and my back both complained so I had to come home and change!

Hopkirk - you've flown.  You must have found yourself in some nightclub in HK, Narita etc and wondered what the hell you were doing there in the middle of the night after you worked for 14 hours and that is before you even got up 12 hours before that. How did we did it?

I notice that every time I get up out of a chair I make involuntary noise.  . And before Hopkirk make any comments.  I don't mean fart.ing

I refuse to notice the signs

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I used to commute to London all week from Lincolnshire and on a Thursday would often go on the lash before catching the "divorce train" home.  Then was up again at 6 am to catch  the train back on a Friday and again out on the Friday.  One night on the lash now and I need to sleep for 3 days.

I never could wear high heels, I walked like a duck.

I used to down six or seven pints in a session with my mates. Now I'm down to five, max. Hardly worth going out. Life's a bitch.

We used to go to the Roof Garden (99 Kensington High St as I remember) Some of the best nights out ever (can't be sure we went on our own membership cards though)

I like a comfy pair of trousers, whereas I used to stitch myself into tight jeans. 
My new menopausal belly is my latest egregious sign of ageing. 

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I used to get to go to some fab places, but some of the best nights was in a tiny boozer just between Kingsway and Lincolns Inn fields.  It was run by an ex barrister's clerk and his wife (she really did rock Angie from EastEnders), and we had some absolutely hilarious lock ins there.

Clover - I get the belly.  Worse though is Mr BM asked me recently what size my boobs are and I replied 36 long.

>>> "What are your signs you are maturing?"

 

Using cheese as an analogy here, I'm no longer 'mature' but simply 'over-ripe'!

or using a literary analogy, slightly foxed in my case, Buenchico.

I've got beyond 'slightly foxed' in book collectors' terminolgy, Jno. 

I now rate myself as 'reading copy only, with missing dust wrapper and loose covers' 😊

^^^ . . . not to mention "worn spine" too!

weak hinges here...

In my RAF days I could get dressed in the number one uniform with all its trimmings, in five minutes. Now it takes that long to put on a pair of socks!

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