I now know what it feels like to be old. I have literally reached that point in life where I realise I am no longer a child and that my days will now consist of complaining about politics and getting drunk on two glasses of wine.
How have I come to this decision? Snow.
For a London girl, snow at Christmas time should make me excited beyond my wildest dream. When I was younger I would fantasise about building snowmen in the same way other girls would dream about marrying Robbie Williams.
So surely this winter should've made me the happiest person in the world? Unfortunately not.
Instead of frolicking in the beautiful piles of fluffy, delicious snow, I am sat inside a freezing house, with numerous amounts of blankets, a microwavable reindeer and at least 7 pairs of socks. Complaining. About the cold. And the state of the roads.
Even though I can't drive. That's how bad it is.
Soon I'll be complaining about the youth of today, and their inconsiderate habit of having FUN, and why don't we bring back Tony Blair, he was such a handsome young man, and, oh my God, what are you doing, turn the channel over, WE'RE MISSING COUNTDOWN.
Although, to be honest, Countdown is a jolly good show.
I wonder if they show it on 4OD?
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