I'm turning into my mother

I swear, the older I get, the more like my mother I become.

Today, I went shopping with my best friend, H. We went round several shoe shops looking at gym trainers (I know, aren't we cool?) and I persuaded her to buy the cheap ones. Not because they were pretty, or a cute colour, or the most functional, but because they were the cheapest.

On the way home, I proceeded to lecture her on the importance of a university degree in getting a decent job, and how jetting off to Malaysia every few months interspersed with bar work was not a productive use of a gap year. I AM TURNING INTO A MONSTER.

I'm not joining my mates at the pub tonight because I want to curl up in front of Holby City with a nice glass of wine and retire early to bed with my new, glossy copy of Lippincott's Biochemistry. How sad. I'm only eighteen, for goodness sake! Just how dull and straight-laced am I gonna be at forty? I should be out getting smashed off my face on illegal drugs and copious amounts of alcopops, and coming home at dawn, yet my favourite social activity is lounging in a coffee shop - any coffee shop, I don't care which - with my oldest jeans and mis-matched socks on, and a fleece that my cat has moulted all over, with a giant mug of caffeine. And coming home in time for tea.

I think I need to act my age a bit more.

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Prince Harry arrived at work yesterday. Not the real one, obviously, but the new junior doctor bears more than a passing resemblance.

All of my female colleagues were admiring this new chap, until they realised that they have sons older than he is. Ha, he's all mine now, ladies. In my dreams, of course. Although at last check, I was the only young, single female in employment there.

It was just a shame that he turned up on the day that I:

a) Hadn't washed my hair
b) Had forgotten to put my contacts in
c) Had only rolled out of bed ten minutes before starting work
d) Was only staying awake through sheer willpower and a caffeine overdose

In summary, I looked like hell. Not to mention that I had a cough that could be heard all over the building, and that was producing blood as well as copious amounts of gunk. A very pleasant image indeed.

In future, I will wake up with enough time to find a clean work shirt, pop socks without ladders and cat-hair-free trousers. I will wash my hair, put my contacts in, and do my make-up. I'll even put on perfume. I'll get to work on time, and SMILE.

I think all those combined will kill my workmates with shock. The only day I ever manage to look half-decent is my day off.