Lightbulb Moment

light-bulbSo, what’s been happening for the last few weeks? Well, let’s swiftly mention the mad rush up to Christmas and how frustrating and busy the build up to the day itself can be, then you’ve got the couple of days afterwards whereby another chocolate might send you over the edge and you could easily cross that line and murder a family member, the bombardment of sales in every shop, taking up every ad break on TV and still you don’t find anything you want to buy when out of sheer boredom you venture towards the mayhem of the High Street. Then there’s the going back to work thing, having realised you’ve put on a huge amount of weight – damn those bloody chocolates! – and by then, ‘Happy New Year’ is the last thing you want to hear.

Yet, it’s only those things in isolation that might’ve been responsible for my bad mood over the last couple of weeks. And by that I mean for like, 5 minutes a day when someone else had eaten the last Orange Cream or going to the shop for milk is like facing the enemy across No Man’s Land or I wished I could prove that the bathroom scales were lying. Sure, there was bickering and ‘No! I’M watching THAT movie now!’ or when the thought of setting an alarm and going back to work after 2 weeks off was the last thing I wanted taking up my Me Time. But overall, I just couldn’t  explain why I was waking up like a bag of weasels, stomping around like the whole world was against me and then finding out that there wasn’t as much as a Strawberry Cream left in the huge full-five-minutes-ago pillarbox size box of Quality Street! Even Molly and Fizzy were beginning to look at me strangely and profusely thanked me each time I fed them without giving out to them for just being there.

What the hell was going on with me?! The more I couldn’t explain it, the more annoyed I got! Now, there’s stuff going on, well, everyone always has stuff going on.. but I just couldn’t tell you exactly what had turned me into a such a right old cranky arse. Any patience I may have had, had long since disappeared. I was getting to the stage that before I said anything, I was nearly automatically counting to ten, thinking I was bound to bite someone else’s head off. Last Saturday was a doozy – I dragged my sorry self around town for a couple of hours, I could even see people reacting in horror to the scowl on my face, I ‘meh’d’ everything I picked up and didn’t try on anything, even though I had made it my mission to buy some clothes that day. I took my sorry ass back to HQ and was momentarily cheered up through the power of My Other Dad and my friend Jim Beam. I was very buzzy by the time I met McSmile but then I got all antsy with him and soon he couldn’t say anything without an accusation or worse from me. Oh by then I was drunkedy drunk drunk, of course, and we all know what that means, right? Tears. And snot. And wailing. And more tears and more snot. I got to the stage whereby I was so annoyed with myself I just blurted out to him that I really didn’t know what was wrong with me!

Then there was the lightbulb moment.

‘Hey, Glitter! It’s OK! You’re nearly 35, it’s your birthday soon. It’s just a thing.’

‘What? Really?’ Sob. Deep breath. Sob. Sigh.

‘When I turned 35 I went a bit funny for a while too. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be OK. I promise.’

And then there was laughing and the tears and snot went away. And there was kissing. And when I woke up, I was OK. Everything seemed OK. My Lightbulb Moment.


7 responses to “Lightbulb Moment

  1. Wonderful post and one we can all relate to! I’m turning 35 as well soon….we can all cry, snot and wail together if you like!

  2. love the post lol. i’m 36 soon. i cried the other day because i’m nearly 40. . but most days i don’t care . . who would ever ever want to be in their twenties ever again. cheer up lovely.xx

  3. monty.. you’re on!

    see towny, i would describe you as mid 30’s, not nearly 40, silly!
    .. and me neither would want to be back in my 20’s!

  4. I never minded the odd numbers for some reason, didn’t like 34 and 36 and 38…….

    I do remember myself and my friend (we’re a month apart) when we just passed 25 .

    We were all “TWENTY FIVE ……..FUCK WE’RE OLD”….

  5. Dorothy Darker

    Oh Dahling

    Am turning 35 myself at beg of March – i think its a hormonal thing because our eggs are starting to rot and it is also the recognised age of official spinsterdom I believe!

    I did my angsty thing last year in preparation so a bit calmer about it now! Though the five year markers do stand out as significant to me!

    At least you have a McSmile to keep you distracted!!!!

    One needs to celebrate the occassion rather than mourning it I believe!

    Still wondering how to mark it myself!!!

    ciao meow


  6. thanks for the reminder on ‘official spinsterdom’, dorothy 😉
    mcsmile will have to pull out a few stops over the w/end, methinks!

  7. Dorothy Darker

    Yes but Dahling one talks of spinsterdom as if its a bad thing – think of how wonderful we look for our years compared to those put upon types with husbands and families to drain their youthful zest for life!

    at least we are entitled to save it up for ‘the ones elf we love’!!

    But who am I kidding – what would I give for an aidan quinn lookalike with a wicked sense of humour and a mind as close to the gutter as my own come the beg of March!

    I suggest to beat the birthday blues you buy a magnificent present for yourself or indeed that you insist McSmile presents himself for your entertainment wearing little else but a …smile!!!!


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