Was that me?! Really?!

"I have a clear memory of miscmum's tears when she turned 20, upon her realisation that she was halfway to 40. Remember that? What is your opinion on that particular frame of mind now, miscmum? Do you still wish you were 20 or are you happy with the experiences you have accumulated since then?" That was a comment on my revious post from my reflective and long memory-blessed sister. Do I wish I was 20 again? Honestly, sometimes yes. Then I could drink a bottle of champagne on my own and suffer no hangover. Now I can't drink a glass without my liver trying to process the alcohol with the highest level of discomfort and anger. I was about to embark on a Masters degree, so I was souped-up on academic jargon and thought I was so smart. Now, I have to think hard to string a coherent, yet amusing, sentence together. I was also determined to be a "serious" published author by the time I was 25, just like Zadie Smith, or Bret Easton Ellis, or any other number of talented individuals. Needless to say, that hasn't passed. But I think I'm a happier person now, than then. I'm more settled in my skin. So if that's the tradeoff you get for getting older, then I think I'll be ok.