I was with a good friend at the weekend and I mentioned that I had read his blog, and enjoyed it. He said I should write one, I think he was basing this on the fact that one or two of my Facebook postings had made him laugh. He is actually the fifth person to tell me this.
I made the point that it must be very different writing a few silly words than it is to write an entire blog and remain interesting and engaging. His response to this was that if nothing else, writing a blog was almost therapeutic once one actually got going.
I actually started this blog when I was thirty seven, hence the imaginative title. I am now thirty eight but I don't suppose this matters too much, since I am probably the only person who will ever read it! I went through the old posts and they were very personal, too personal I think. So this is me, drawing a line under those and starting again.
So, today, I joined a gym. Again. Fourth one now. Most people, husband included, are already convinced I will go a few times and then stop, choosing instead to watch dreadful five o'clock telly. They might be right, but I really have to do something.
When I arrived at my joining appointment, I was greeted by a receptionist, not unlike Alice from the Vicar of Dibley but older. She asked me to take a seat, I did. Then, Jenny appeared and it was clear that I was a nuisance to her and that she really didn't have time to sign me up. After signing more paperwork than I did when I took out my first mortgage, she gave me a very quick tour and booked me in for an induction. Now, I thought these were for pregnant ladies but apparently Jack (who is probably fourteen) is doing mine tomorrow. I will let you know how that goes.
So that is my first blog. I hope you are still awake.
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