Don’t take pills with soup
Because being a multi-tasking Midult doing a minimum of two things at once is the new normal, despite the fact that sometimes it is actually *whispers* counter-productive. So eating lunch while taking medication feels like a neat little juggle. Instead it’s a struggle as you discovered, while choking on the unholy taste sensation of Citolapram and M&S pea and ham soup.
Sneezing is suddenly fraught with danger
Sneezing never really troubled you at all until recently when a multitude of things conspired to make you dread it: the chance of fluids for the one – damn you pelvic floor; the chance of putting your back out (see also pavements and sleeping for God’s sake). And when you have put your back out, the horror of spasm. And suddenly there is nothing to fear but fear itself. And sneezing.
Autocorrect sees into your soul
Perhaps you’ve spent so much time holding your phone that it now has developed its own consciousness – or rather stolen yours. So “love” autocorrects to “lice”, “sorry” to “dirty” and “meds” to “mess”. Ducking hell.
Sometimes you just need to lie down on your bed and do nothing for three years
Obviously you are not going to do that because there’s CHRISTMAS and 2019 and WORK to wrestle with. But when the alarm goes off and you have been staring at the ceiling for hours anyway it is tempting to think that a three-year lie-in might solve a few problems.
Secretly listening to monks chanting is very helpful
Yes you want to be relevant, sexy, cool, accidentally start the next big fashion trend and dazzle like the sun with your energy and joie de vivre. But you also like listening to monks omming. And it helps. OK, nothing really helps. But you can pretend the monks make you zen. And that is half the battle because….
Faking it works
Not orgasms. But happiness, enthusiasm, engagement, laughter and interest and politics and maths. OK not maths.
Taking off your bra when you get home might just be as good as it gets
You’ve experimented with all the highs from peyote to Panadol Extra, but nothing gets near that feeling of rummaging under your jumper and whipping out your bra. Unless you have vast boobs. In which case, congratulations and let’s go for a halfway house and lose the underwire.
You know nothing about the Northern Irish Border
And you are tired and shamed about it.