The Olds
My grandparents are over again. It’s quite distressing how much they talk about their bladder problems. What’s worse, is how my parents are also starting to relate to them (“oh yeah, that’s normal, it happens to me as well”). The thing that’s distressing is that we’re all probably going to end up like that and I don’t need to overhear those problems in specific detail. My grandmother needs to go to the toilet with a frequency that’s scary. Old people sleep usually are early sleepers and early risers, so she’ll be in bed at around 10.30 or so. I’ll be up late on the computer, and like clockwork, she’ll glide past my bedroom door about every 90 minutes. She’s like a ghost when she goes around the house… I swear, she doesn’t make a sound. Having a gaunt-looking figure suddenly flicker by the doorway on your peripheral vision at 3am is quite startling. Actually, I don’t know who was startled more when she went by and found me still typing away at 4am the other night.
3:30pm (GMT +10.00) tomorrow 
