Everyone of us is getting older. Day by day a day we are older than the day before. Not a profound thought really but as the cliche runs....it is better than the alternative.
Yesterday my friend Hn and I collected our tickets and travel documentation for our forthcoming holiday. On Saturday week, which is Australia Day, we are flying to South America for a three weeks holiday. It will be our first visit. I'm dreading the long flight but those distances are a fact of life for Australians. I handled them much better when I was younger but nowadays I find myself frazzled by long journeys.
Last night I failed to attend the second of this year's subscription plays at the Sydney Theatre Company. I hate wasting my ticket like that and in the past have only done so in instances of emergency situations. My weak excuse for missing the performance was car related. I didn't have access to mine. It is at the repairers and wasn't made available in time. I'm hoping the car will be ready this morning.
I could have travelled to the theatre and back by bus last night as I did on the previous Thursday evening but last night's play, 'The Secret River', is a much longer play and I just didn't fancy the late night wait for a bus home. The timetable and frequency of busses on my route really are disgraceful.
Maybe missing the theatre proved fortuitous or maybe I was punished because as soon as I went to bed I was hit by illness. It was as though I experienced a ninety minute virus. Tingling feet, nausea, a touch of diarrhoea and a headache. It would have been uncomfortable to feel like that whilst struggling through a three hours long play. Eventually I slept and this morning I feel OK. Well, reasonably OK anyway.
I'm getting older. Things just don't work as well as they used to.
Now......what's the number of the car repairer?