My bessie mate and I went on holiday, ooh a good few years ago now. We went to this Greek island. When we were there we went on a boat trip to a nearby island where the tree that Hippocrates lectured under (he must have been pretty short) still grew (is propped up) and where the shops sold soft porn playing cards.
I think we found the deal on Ceefax. We got to the island and it’s pretty sleepy. Lots of sun sun sun sun sun sun sun sun sun.
We were the youngest people on the island. I noticed that for some of the other people who spend time next to a swimming pool (did we gatecrash this swimming pool? Our rented apartment place didn’t have a pool) well, they’re older than us and well, their main conversation was what ailed them. What illnesses they’ve had and what diseases people of their acquaintance have survived. I could be exaggerating. They weren’t talking to us. I was eavesdropping. It was kind of interesting as well as massively dull. I remember my bessie and I promising, with a terror born of the foreshadowing of our future selves, that we wouldn’t do that when we were older. Just compare illnesses. What had led these people to this crevasse of rhetoric? There’s nothing left to say to one another but a passively aggressive semi-competitive comparison of how your body is succumbing incrementally to death?
I suppose now I think, well, maybe those people I eavesdropped on didn’t like each other much, didn’t have much in common or what have you, and were forced to spend time together. And also there’s no reason to suppose that based on the evidence of one overheard discourse that that’s how all all older people converse. I mean. It’s not like this whole blog post I’m currently typing has anything to do with the fact that I have been using all social networks and opportunities to complain about having a head cold. I haven’t. I haven’t.
I have, haven’t I.
I’m old*. And sick. Save yourselves while you still can young ones. Take echinacea before it’s too late for you too. And whatever you do, do not say out loud or even in your own head, “Huh, I don’t even remember what being sick feels like.” That’s just what the universe is waiting for. Pesky universe and its sense of just desserts.
*older than I used to be.