LIFE IS NOW. CHEERS. 🍒

 

Apparently, I will never be this age again.

Good.

It would be terribly inefficient to do 60 twice.

But here’s the thing.

Life is happening now.

Not when I lose five kilos.

Actually, fuck the five kilos.

They seem perfectly happy where they are.

Not when work calms down.

Not when I’ve organised my life.

And certainly not when I meet a man.

I’m not waiting for one.

There isn’t a vacancy.

I’ve become extremely fond of my independence.

My house.
My bed.
My mess.
My remote control.
My bathroom.

Especially my bathroom.

I like a toilet closed.

Completely closed.

Lid down. Finished. Civilisation restored.

In my house, men pee sitting down. I introduced this policy years ago and see no reason to review it.

And yet, somehow, given access to a perfectly respectable toilet, a man can still leave the whole thing open like an exhibition at the Tate Modern.

Why?

What exactly are we displaying?

So yes, romance may enter the building.

It is not getting a key to my bathroom.

If I meet someone wonderful, funny, intelligent and sufficiently interesting to disturb my peace, excellent.

We’ll have dinner.

We’ll travel.

We’ll laugh.

We’ll do all sorts of deliciously inappropriate things.

Then he’ll go home.

To his toilet.

Which he may exhibit however he pleases.

But enough about toilets.

There is dancing to be done.

Because apparently another thing you’re supposed to do at 60 is calm down.

I’m not entirely sure why.

I still want to go out.

I still want to get dressed for absolutely no reason other than I look fabulous and somebody should see this.

I want dinners that become drinks.

Drinks that become one more.

One more that becomes music.

Music that becomes dancing.

And dancing that becomes:

“Good God, is that the time?”

I want to dance all night and complain about my feet the following morning.

Both experiences are mine and I intend to enjoy them equally.

I want to laugh until my mascara has abandoned its original position.

I want to get home ridiculously late, take off seventeen bracelets, several enormous rings and shoes I should probably have reconsidered three hours earlier, and think:

That was a bloody good night.

And sometimes I want to stay home.

Put on something disgracefully comfortable.

Cancel everything.

Eat something in bed.

Watch rubbish television.

Talk to the dog.

Ignore humanity.

Also a bloody good night.

That’s the wonderful thing about getting older.

I’m no longer terribly interested in what I’m supposed to enjoy.

I know what I enjoy.

And I want more of it.

More dinners.

More airports.

More music.

More ridiculous clothes.

More dancing.

More friends around tables.

More inappropriate laughter.

More mornings that begin with:

“Do you remember what we did last night?”

And occasionally:

“Please tell me nobody took photographs.”

I don’t want to spend my life preparing to live it.

I want the stories.

The beautiful ones.

The ridiculous ones.

The ones that begin with:

“This seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Especially those.

Because one day I’ll be older than I am today.

And I’d much rather look back and think,

“Well, that was probably unnecessary.”

than

“I wish I had.”

So no.

I’m not slowing down because a number suggests I should.

I’m not waiting until I’m ready.

I’m not waiting until I’m thinner.

I’m not waiting for the right moment.

I’m not waiting for anyone.

I’m already here.

The music is playing.

My friends are laughing.

The champagne is cold.

And somewhere, presumably, a man has left a toilet lid up.

Not my problem.

Life is happening right now.

Cheers to that.

Right. What trouble are we getting into tonight? 🍒

#LifeIsNow #CheersToLife #SingleAt60 #StillDancing #CantoDaCereja