Call me dramatic...but I do not want to turn 25. Saying that, I don't wanna die....but maybe just stay 24? Or 22, yes I like 22. That would be nice.
My neurosis seems to be multiplied ridiculously - all because of a number. Twenty. Five. When i turned 21 I decided to become a lady, which involved stopping biting my nails...I have kept up the lady-ness (well my nails are still long!) And I have now decided to commemorate turning this dreaded number with becoming a woman, I have joined a gym to combat this 'mid twenty spread' round people talk about...I'm only 5 ft 2, I don't want to be wider than I am tall! I moisturise like a mad woman. No inch of skin is left uncreamed! I'm even using anti-aging creams/toners/cleansers...or de-creasing as I like to call it. I have become obsessive with my eyes, my hair, bingo wings, early menopause, babies - or lack of babies, am I going to dry up? How naked in acceptable on a night out, is it OK to booty shake in front of people I don't know?....Oh no, I fear this next week is gonna be full of age related ranting. For that I apologise in advance.
Love from, An old haggered Rabbit x
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