On feeling old

I had a telephone call last night which I answered just as I returned home from BestFriends house, at the respectable time of 10.30pm. It was Littler A, back at university and on a train heading towards London. At least I think she was on a train. It's what I think she said, but then it was hard to hear her over the din. She may have been in the monkey enclosure at the zoo, or the common room of a public school. There was definitely shrieking. "Rachi baby!" she giggled, "what clubs in London stay open all night on a Thursday?". I thought back to the days when I used to be able to party all night, on a whim. I thought back to the last club I had been to on a school night, Mamalanji, where I had danced til 4am and still made it to work. I thought of my sister's budget and reached for Time Out.

...

I have spoken before of my love of e-bay. Sometimes I look at shoes, sometimes clothes, handbags, things. Last week I bought a vintage embroidered tablecloth and 8 wicker place mats. The tablecloth arrived yesterday. Once I had finished organising Littler A's night out (having to terminate the call when I could no longer hear whether I was being listened to or not) I spread it over our table and thought "this is the difference between 26 and 21, between being a fiancee and being single. She dances all night. I try to beautify my flat and my table and practice being a housewife". All at once I felt contented but sadly nostalgic.