It lives, it lives!

I’m not quite sure how I slept last night.

Or rather I slept fine, thanks for asking, but I’m not sure about the pillow to bonce positional relationship that must have developed for a goodly portion of the night.

I woke up this morning with a crease down the side of my face from just above my right ear, diagonally down my cheek and onto my chin where it faded out. Now I rarely look my best first thing in the morning, a night of sleeping on my side means that gravity drags everything over to that side and I generally end up looking bleary eyed and lopsided for the first hour until said gravity drags everything back into its approximate position.

Even at that point I am not, even by my own standards, an oil painting, but at least my face begins to look like the one I had yesterday at that stage. I almost never wake up with an additional crease, though.

Wrinkles are another matter, of course. I long gave up on worrying about the inevitable march of time across my physog in its size 15 bovver boots. At age 47 you can’t expect to look like a fresh-faced youth, unless you have vast amounts of disposable income and no fear of the knife. Even then there is a chance that you will look like some bizarre, shiny brown android¹ (George Hamilton, j’accuse). No, I rather had hopes that as the hair receded and the wrinkles joined up, I could attempt a Sid James style of face: cheerfully lived in.

In the event, I think the bugger is too malleable (Hmm… Botox, maybe…?). As I said above, first thing in the morning, it’s all over to one side. An hour later it’s all in the right place, but still dishevelled. Two hours in, and gravity has done its work, and dragged everything down somewhat, the worst wrinkles are ironed out and for the next few hours my face looks about as good as it ever does². Unfortunately, from about 8 in the evening until I go to bed again, gravity continues its work and by about 11pm I start to look like a bloodhound, complete with bloodshot eyes. So then to bed, and the cycle starts anew.

Just my luck to have a silly putty face; I wanted craggy.


¹The Thursday evening games mob will notice a theme here, since in our Champions game I am currently playing Sentinel, a naïve, bizarre, shiny brown android.

²Which isn’t saying much, admittedly.

It lives, it lives!

I’m not quite sure how I slept last night.

Or rather I slept fine, thanks for asking, but I’m not sure about the pillow to bonce positional relationship that must have developed for a goodly portion of the night.

I woke up this morning with a crease down the side of my face from just above my right ear, diagonally down my cheek and onto my chin where it faded out. Now I rarely look my best first thing in the morning, a night of sleeping on my side means that gravity drags everything over to that side and I generally end up looking bleary eyed and lopsided for the first hour until said gravity drags everything back into its approximate position.

Even at that point I am not, even by my own standards, an oil painting, but at least my face begins to look like the one I had yesterday at that stage. I almost never wake up with an additional crease, though.

Wrinkles are another matter, of course. I long gave up on worrying about the inevitable march of time across my physog in its size 15 bovver boots. At age 47 you can’t expect to look like a fresh-faced youth, unless you have vast amounts of disposable income and no fear of the knife. Even then there is a chance that you will look like some bizarre, shiny brown android¹ (George Hamilton, j’accuse). No, I rather had hopes that as the hair receded and the wrinkles joined up, I could attempt a Sid James style of face: cheerfully lived in.

In the event, I think the bugger is too malleable (Hmm… Botox, maybe…?). As I said above, first thing in the morning, it’s all over to one side. An hour later it’s all in the right place, but still dishevelled. Two hours in, and gravity has done its work, and dragged everything down somewhat, the worst wrinkles are ironed out and for the next few hours my face looks about as good as it ever does². Unfortunately, from about 8 in the evening until I go to bed again, gravity continues its work and by about 11pm I start to look like a bloodhound, complete with bloodshot eyes. So then to bed, and the cycle starts anew.

Just my luck to have a silly putty face; I wanted craggy.


¹The Thursday evening games mob will notice a theme here, since in our Champions game I am currently playing Sentinel, a naïve, bizarre, shiny brown android.

²Which isn’t saying much, admittedly.

Spectacles

I have come to an accommodation with my new glasses.

They sit on my desk just behind my keyboard, and we glare balefully at each other at regular intervals.

Spectacles

I have come to an accommodation with my new glasses.

They sit on my desk just behind my keyboard, and we glare balefully at each other at regular intervals.