I found myself moaning to Michelle last night, “I wish I was 20 again”… How sad is that?

The truth is, I DO wish I was 20 again but with the knowledge that I know now, and perhaps less of the cynicism. It’s not like I’m ancient. But somehow, without me realising it, I’ve gone from the young one in the crowd to the ‘older’ more mature one… all in a matter of – well I guess ‘years’ really. How could that happen? What’s happened to my life – can I have it one more time, please?

It’s not like I regret anything, I can’t see the point. It’s just that I’ve started to really open my eyes and see all the possibilities around us. All the things to do and see and become. Things I never even saw when I was younger and braver and less ‘experienced’. It’s kind of a cosmic joke. When you’re young and able you don’t see all the potential, when your old and jaded, you can see it, you just can’t or just won’t take the leap for a million and one reasons, none of which are particularly valid.

So as of right now I’ve decided that that’s not the way it’s going to be for me and my life. I’m going to become one of those embarrassing old people that acts half their age. Since it’s Michelle that’s the closest to me, and the most likely to suffer any embarrassment – I should be ok. She’s the poster girl of young mindedness (I mean that in the most positive way). On the wrong side of 40 but so full of energy, with diverse and even eclectic tastes in just about everything. I think I can rely on her to keep me on the straight and narrow, or at least the young, open and carefree – depending on how you look at it!