I’m getting old.
Well, I’m not, not really. But as I creep further into my late twenties, the aches and pains are starting to feel worthy of someone beyond my years. They’ve even become a running dinner table topic amongst my friends. Each of us seems to have acquired a niggle, a dodgy joint or a pulled muscle we can compare over pasta, right alongside our new obsessions with homeware and the unexpected thrill of a good vacuum cleaner.
