Save us St Vitus.

                                             St Vitus Dance by Langlume

Life is under no obligation to give us what we expect.

 

-Margaret Mitchell

Sometimes I find growing up a very painful process.  It seems that the longer you are invested in Life the more complicated it becomes - so full of excruciating decisions, difficult truths and endless wondering about what the hell is really going on and how come everyone else appears to be playing the game so well? And that is just the becoming a useful adult bit.

Growing old is another kettle of fish entirely, marked by:

A)   Hangovers (especially the post-30, 3 day specials filled with loathing and an inevitable dip into the slough of despond).

B)   Making ‘ouf’ sounds when you sit down.

C)   Marveling at the limpet-like tenacity of your frown line to never quite disappear.

D)    The fact that you can no longer watch scary movies because they are ‘too close, too the bone’ (an expression oft used by my mother which I did not understand until my 30’s)

E)   Worrying extensively about the expiry date/genetic quality of one’s ovaries.

F)    Early onset Alzheimer’s, I appear to have some alarming signs i.e. leaving the hot tap running in the sink, losing keys and recently I forgot to take underwear with me when I went to visit friends for the weekend and so spent the whole of Sunday in a multitude of layers comprised of a full swimming costume over my bra (because I would never forget that) in the manner of a sweaty/lycra corset.

Of course all is not lost.  As life gets busier and more complicated and my neuroses more complex it is easier to pick out the little joy nuggets.  I have narrowed these down to:

A)   The amazing high you get when you hear the words “Cool down time” and you realize that you will make it through your spinning class alive.

B)   The orgiastic delight of an ice cold beer when you are utterly parched, generally because you have just made it through a spinning class alive.  Especially the class where D.J Raul/instructor Vinnie urged you to put you hands in the air and shout ‘Yeah’ while climbing the imaginary equivalent of Chapman’s Peak.

C)   The soothing power of chocolate. Errmegad. So good.

D)   My people *If this is getting too Hallmark for you, feel free to carry on with your life, around about now* I truly appreciate my friends and family and how marvelous it is to spend time with them in between all the hectic elements - careers, spouses, houses, children, ageing parents - that make up adult life. 

Sometimes I do get a touch of the hermit about me, as I navel gaze and fret about my place in this crazy old world.  I am especially prone to these bouts after A) wondering if my husband is still alive after a prolonged period of marital inactivity B) checking my bank balance or C) watching the news about SA/Syria/E.U economic gloom.  Luckily my people often find me at these dire times and save me from myself, albeit unknowingly, with laughter and dancing. I think St Vitus (the patron saint of dancers, comedians, actors and epileptics?) would agree sometimes you just need to squeak some takkie* with your nearest and dearest.

*shake a tail feather, cut some rug. 

A word of warning about dancing and laughter if these are taken in conjunction with tequila at the Pot & Barrel at Symo’s Sendoff Party you may spend majority of the following day horizontal and praying to St Vitus/The Angel of Mercy to take you now, at these times neither beer, chocolate, laughter or friendship will save you.  It is a dark place, best avoided until next weekend.