Sunday, May 25, 2008

Mustn't grumble

I was 36 a few days ago. This means

a) I have now lived away from my parent's home for as long as I lived there.
b) I am twice as old as our first year students.

This is a list of things I was worried about when I was 18: being too thin, not having enough money to buy food or pay my rent, having an accent that none of my friends could understand, wondering whether my friends would hate me if they discovered I was gay, a sense of over-powering social awkwardness, wishing people thought I was "cooler" than I actually was, wondering if I would ever find a boyfriend or even have a sexual experience.

This is a list of things I worry about at 36: that my partner will die prematurely, that I won't be able to find someone to look after the cat when I go on holiday, that my hair might fall out, that if I eat fast food and sweets I will get fat, that I am getting boring, that my misanthropy and political cynicism means I am turning into a bitter old man who will spoil his next ballot paper.

Apart from that (and I acknowledge that most of the stuff on both lists are absolute nonsense and also a pretty good gauge of what a nice life I've actually had!), I can't complain.

2 comments:

KAZ said...

Beware Lubin.
36 is a dangerous age.

Trashbinder said...

My partner dying prematurely resonated with me too as one of my worries as a thirty-something. I think it's a sign of becoming blatantly aware of my mortality.

It doesn't help that the majority of media images are showing people who are beating the signs of ageing with surgery, botox and extreme exercise/diet regimes. No-one knows what 50 should look like any longer.