Thank you for all your patience with me yelling at you about the UK Blog Awards. You’ll be pleased to know that voting has now closed so I cant harass you about it any more. Feel free to put away your stress balls and voodoo dolls in my image, I will be nice from now on I promise!
I did something very stupid today. At work we use statistics a lot to calculate people’s life expectancy. In a moment of sheer madness I decided to put in my own date of birth and see how long I have left to live.
If you ever feel tempted to do this, trust me. Don’t!
Statistically speaking I have 60.9 years left on this earth. This is the average based on lots of various different numbers that probably only 2 people on the planet can explain. This doesn’t take into account that I have a higher than average BMI and like the odd sweet sherry on special occasions. (Yes I am being sarcastic – I love wine!). Then again it also doesn’t account for Madonna revealing the secret to everlasting youth. Warning – side effects include fake British accent and arms Gollum would be proud of.
On one hand I am mortified that I am a third of the way through my life, the other is determined to make the next two thirds count. I have decided to take stock of the things I have done and make a to-do list of the things I hope to do. For the sake of your sanity I have limited it to 8 things as you and I both know that you are reading this on the tram or on the toilet and you cant hang around for too long, it’s just unsanitary.
Things I have done:
1. Been to Glastonbury
Words cant express how annoyed I am that I didn’t get tickets this year especially now Lionel Ritchie is confirmed. I will be spending the next six months doing a rain dance. I don’t care if it seems childish – if I cant go then no one should be able to go!
2. Had a short haircut.
Ah the bob – I loved it but growing it out was the single hardest thing I have ever had to do (yes I know people go to war and have to battle disease, I’m not saying it’s the same I’m just saying it was hard). Now it is finally at a decent length and what turns out to be the hairdo of the season? Yep – the bob! Well buggar you MarieClaire magazine, I’m not doing it again.
3. Learnt to ski.
I wasn’t very good at it. You’d think with my ice-skating abilities I would be a natural but after a year in the Alps the best memory was plummeting down a glacier, ripping a hole in my salopettes and “having” to spend the rest of the day drinking hot wine in a deckchair to save my dignity.
4. Something else
I am actually struggled to think of a fourth thing! I haven’t been travelling or scuba diving or walked the Great wall of China. What the hell have I been doing for the past 29.18 years?? Suggestions on a postcard please.
Things I have yet to do:
1. Learn how to walk in heels.
I fall over. A lot. I maintain that it is because I have been blessed with the cloven hooves of a centaur, but I also feel it may have something to do with drink. I am at the age now where I take flat shoes out in my bag. Classy no?
2. Learn to speak Italian
Ho cominciato a imparare a parlare italiano quando avevo 15 anni , ma ho rinunciato quando ho capito che era molto difficile e mi sarebbe mancato il mio programma televisivo preferito.
Thank you Google translate.
3. Been to Thailand
Or Bali, or India, or anywhere that you can’t get to on a Ryan Air flight from Manchester airport. Yes – this is most definitely an invitation for you to take me on holiday. I do have some ground rules though, namely that you must not be a serial killer (or any kind of killer really – just once is too many), you mustn’t be thinner, funnier or prettier than I am (this applies to both sexes), and you must be the type of person who keeps aftersun in the fridge – I have the pale Irish skin of Michael Flatley before he discovered Fake Bake.
I look forward to hearing from you.
4. Lost too much weight
I know this is awful but one day I do dream of the time people will say to me…”Oh Sophie, I think you’re looking too thin! you really must eat something!”
I would then buy yoga pants for yoga and not just for sitting around in because my jeans are too tight. I would perfect my abs selfie and finally work out what Instagram means. People that I used to know would search for me on Facebook and say things like “Oh god she looks weird” and “she doesn’t really have a pretty face“. Ah the dream!
I understand that in order for this to happen I may have to go to the gym more than once a fortnight and stop drinking wine.
Sod it I have 60.9 more years to think about that – I’m off for a pizza and a glass of prosecco!