The Day before The Day

Call it pre-birthday jitters, but every 19th of April I
turn into the worst bitch-queen from hell. I am
turning 34 tomorrow (I don't feel it) I hate the
whole idea of being thirty-something. Deep inside
I stopped at around 26 and that is me- Becka,
nothing else changes it just gets older and greyer.
"Oh what a little ray of sunshine you are." Mocked
Alan.
"Just wait until you are in your forties!" He
sniggered.
"It's different for men!" I snapped;"And anyway
compared to you, I am young!"
"Age does'nt mean anything." He said stoically, I
wanted to smash him in the face for being so silly!
"So your telling me that you would have dated me
if I'd been in my fifties?" I snarled my best snarl.
"Yes! You are Becka Martin, if you were 60+ I'd still
like you." He smiled at me, I scowled, he was trying
that slushy love stuff on me again.
"I believe you!" I said to show that I did'nt.
"It's true."
"But if I was 60 would you still shag me?"
"I would, but maybe not so frantically as it might
not be so good for your pace-maker."
"Ha bloody ha." I grabbed my jacket and went off
to have a quiet drink at The Twisted Gut.
Big Shirl was sympathetic.
"Terrible for a woman, aging." She agreed (of
course she was exempt as she was infact a
cloven hooved goddess).
"Tell me about it!" I sipped my lager belligerantly.
"Could be worse." She added:"I was a grandma at
your age."
"Oh I feel so much better now!" Honestly people
never understand how I feel. Last year Ruth sent
me a box of Tenaladies (Incontinence pads) through
the post! Speaking of post, my mad postie has'nt
done anything lately. Maybe they've moved on, or
it was mistaken identity, who knows? Anyway
B-day tomorrow and usually I do cheer up on the
20th on account I'm really shallow and like prezzies!
Becka (Still 33 if I die tonight)Martin