OMG. This is NOT a poem

I am so old
the mirror's reflection told me so
en embryo of a turkey neck
OMG I am so old
Is my right breast leaning to the left

I think lots of coffin thoughts

Simpering in bed at midday
wishing my husband was someone else
like the Hero in the murder novel
like the Man of My Dreams
I'm rather dry in the thighs
OMG I am so old
Can I afford a brace for straighter teeth

I'm talking to dead people

I need good cash to stash in the pretty biscuit tin by the peas
But work would kill me
I wouldn't last a day
impure thoughts would cast shadows as I oggled my my line manager (whatever that is)
OMG I am so old
Frozen Chocolate Penises defrosting under the bed

I'm having trouble deciding on Milk White or Dark chocolate. 


My future is coming fast
I can get in cheaper at the bowling alley because I'm 55+
BUT on reading that, albeit with some difficulty, I laughed
Young carnivores in the burger bar made Spicy Bean Burger scoffing me want to vomit
Where has my love of cow meat gone
OMG I am so old
I knock on God's door more for professional guidance
He's always out,
But to be fair I am receiving subliminal messages mainly through tv adverts.

Throaty laughs are being interspersed with giggles ( and I have always hated giggling women who think that by making teenage girl noises they are somehow more desireable to men. Yeah right)
I have though had such fun.


I'm using more E45 cream and less lipstick.
Being thought of as an overblown overly dry and over painted middle-aged woman really scares me.
OMG the thought of morphing into my great Aunt Edie sobers me up no end.
It was rumoured that her sudden glamourisation ( beaded berets, diamond rings and a holiday chalet in Skegness) was down to the sickening fact that she'd 'allowed' great Uncle Bob to pass away in the middle of the night instead of dashing for the doctor and by so doing bag the contents of his fat bank account.
LOL!
As if I could


I spend too much time smiling on account of it taking more muscles to frown than to grin.
Resulting in approval from folk but deep lines in the cheek area
Oh bugger.
I soothe myself by knowing absolutely that what I lose on the physical front I gain in the brain.
I'm swallowing Edward Marston novels like they're sugared almonds (which my the way have made their way into my handbag, a sign surely of approaching vaginal dryness)


With physical deterioration has come a little wisdom
and playfulness.
OMG I'm approaching 59 and I'm kinda not scared.
As many doors close, many are opened
As more sleep is needed, more beauty I attaineth
As natural anxiety about love and the future attend my every day
I seize it.


OMG I like life!