Narky and Sarky

Despite the HRT, I still find myself ‘narky and sarky’ on occasion. Well – maybe more than ‘on occasion’. Today being a very good example! Today I made Joan Rivers seem like ever so lovely Lorraine Kelly.

It started with turning my laptop on and once again being bombarded with ads for funeral plans, youth facials, slippers and those chairs that tip up when you want to stand up. Fecks sake! Then I filled a survey in and realised I had moved yet another age tick box to the right – another step to the grave!

Then on the tram to work I was just listening happily to my music and Hemp Oil Harriet got on. Hemp Oil Harriet is so called due to her insistence that she got through the menopause with no more help that a spoon of Hemp Oil every day. She doesn’t know about this nickname. She has another nickname ‘Sanctimonious Fucker’ which she also doesn’t know about.

To stop her trying (once again) to convert me from HRT to Hemp Oil, I tell her about my personalised laptop adverts.
But she is particularly Pollyanna today and unlike some sensible people who would have a moan with me, it is apparent she is on a mission to ‘cheer me up’. I don’t want cheered up. I am narky and about to become very sarky. This is a dangerous combination but she is oblivious.
“Getting older is a privilege denied to so many” she lectures “you should feel good to be getting older and wiser’

Is she having a feckin laugh? I am not wiser. Most definitely not feckin wiser. Yesterday I walked into a room and felt it was a ‘win’ when I knew instantly why I was there. And tbh that was because it was the bathroom!. I also had to Google to find out what year it was as I genuinely had a blank as to whether it was 2018 or 2019. Then I was desperately trying to remember the woman whose radio show I love on a Saturday night to tell someone – I was almost sure it was Lisa Starbuck. Had to google that too. If ever there is anyone wanting to do a drag act for Liza Tarbuck then you are welcome to the name.

‘I’m not older and wiser – I am older and wider’ I retort
But she is not put off from her mission to instil a little positivity in me. She embarks on a series of what she calls philisophical advice that I suspect may owe more to Fridge Magnets than Plato.

“With age comes greater tolerance and you should embrace that” she witters.”. Is she feckin kidding? The only reason she is still breathing is the HRT patch on my arse that she, ironically, is so disdainful of. Over the last two days I have told so many people to feck off so that I started to wonder if I might have tourettes. So I’m not buying that either. I just nod though as I am finding passive aggression less likely to get me imprisoned than pure aggression.

“Come on” she says, with absolutely no realisation that she is fighting a losing battle. “There must be something good about getting older”

“Hmm” I say feeling the aggressive bit of the passive aggressive coming out. “Let me see – the irony of getting 90 million chin hairs just as your eye sight deteriorates and the hair on your head starts to thin – well that’s a great feckin laugh isn’t it. And the fatigue that pops along to the exhaustion and anxiety ridden party in your body – well that is fabulous too!

Pollyanna Hemp Oil interrupts – not realising I am just warming up.

“Age only matters if you are a cheese” she states as if reciting from Socrates himself. “My auntie has walked 5 miles a day since she was 81 and she is 87 now and fit as a fiddle”

“Do you miss her?” I ask

She is confused “She isn’t dead?”.
“I know” I say “but she must be very very far away by now”.
She looks blank and I can’t be arsed explaining my witty statement. Sometimes you just can’t fix stupid.

“You should really look to the future – there are so many experiences you can be doing – look at all the meetup groups and communities you could be doing” she says.

Doesn’t she realise I do not have FOMO (fear of missing out) – I have JOMO (Joy of Missing Out). I just can’t be arsed. Best plans for me at the moment are cancelled plans. So am hardly gonna actively go hunting for more things to do.

She is looking at me shocked and I realise I have said that I can’t be arsed out loud.

“I know a really good anger management person that it might be worth you seeing” she says earnestly.

“I don’t need an anger management person – I just need people to stop being bampots”. I respond. Though this isn’t strictly speaking true as I am at that moment considering a Britney style meltdown.

But thankfully she alights at the next stop.

And I put my headphones back on and while I should probably find a nice mindfulness app, I instead stick on Meredith Brooks ‘I hate the world today’ and pump the volume up as I sing along.

Is this kind of behaviour normal for a 50 year old woman? Does anyone else get the ‘narky and sarky’ frame of mind on a regular basis??

Twitter: @gallopingcatast

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