Getting worse

As a counterbalance to the previous, back-slapping entry, here are a few ways in which I’m inexorably declining, as part of the inevitable entropic decay of the universe.

1. Impatience. I no longer have the patience to deal with certain types of irritant. The most notable example is poor driving. Before learning to drive I was indifferent to other drivers. Once I had my license, I became a shouty, horn-blowing road-rager. Hello? You see those little lights on the side of your car? They’re called indicators. You can use them if you like. You know, for example to let me know that you’re about to swerve out in front of me…

2. Short-term memory loss. I know, I know. Blame the excessive marijuana consumption (if you’re reading this Mum, that’s a joke). But I’ve arrived at the stage where I’ll walk from one room to another and forget why. Or have to call my wife from the supermarket before picking up every single item in order to check whether or not we need it and is this the brand we usually get? I’ve not seen The Weather Man, but I have seen this clip, which is pretty much an everyday occurrence for me (except for the lecherousness, of course).

3. Hair. No problem with the hair on my head – thick, lustrous, provocatively strokeable (although a little greyer near the temples). No, the problem is in my ears. I know that old men get hair sprouting from inside their ears, but have you ever seen hair on an earlobe? It’s disgusting. I’ve tried clipping, shaving, waxing – nothing works. 

So there you are – nobody’s perfect. Least of all me. But then I’m sure you’d already guessed that.