Waiting for the penny to drop.

Well this is unorthodox….posting twice in one week.

I thought, if I'm inspired, best strike while the iron's hot. 

Driving to work today I was suddenly inspired to look up to the sky, "Wow, that's a lovely cumulonimbus!" 

I shocked myself. 


It seems to have taken me a good 20 years for that word to sink into my brain. 

Too bad I was describing a plane. 

No I wasn't. Rest assured, it was a cloud. 

I'm turning 27 next Thursday (how kind of me - letting you know one week in advance so you can get me a gift and won't feel awkward because you didn't know). If you ask my work mates, they'll say I've been saying "…it's my birthday soon" for the last three months when really it was the last two months. 

Anyway, with this pending birthday it's made me a bit reflective. 

It took me 20 years for it to sink in what different clouds are called, I wonder if the penny is about to drop on other things. 

Ding - Oh that's what I should do with my life, I should be a doctor (just like Hart of Dixie or JD from Scrubs!)
Ding - It was Dad who ate the cookies we left for Santa at Christmas 1992. Funny, Dad also said Santa enjoyed a beer...
Ding - Oh, so that's how to use commas correctly. 
Ding - My dancing at 11.30pm when I'm at a pub really isn't music video quality. 

If only. I don't think I'm going to have any penny drop moments anytime soon, so instead, I'm going to think about what I should do as I get older. 

Buying sensible shoes from the chemist and joining a wine club spring to mind. So does buying some gloves to wear when driving, and while I'm at it, perhaps some All Bran and sherry (FYI - I didn't mention All Bran to be sponsored by it, I say as I see a truck arriving at the front of my house with boxes and boxes of the beastly, bland stuff). 

Starting a book club also seems reasonable. 

Maybe I should get rid of a few youthful habits such as eating peanut butter and honey on toast, wearing denim shorts I've had since I was 17, drawing a smiley face in the Vegemite when I open a new jar and not adhering to the serving size suggestion when eating ice cream. 

I remember when I turned 21, I wrote a column for my newspaper listing the 10 things I'd achieve before I was 30. The list included marrying James Blunt and something, something, something. 

I lost the column, along with my outlandish hopes and dreams. 

The column didn't have the effect i'd wished. I wanted it to be something profound and something I'd fold and put in my back pocket until my dreams were realised. The day it was published I was in Brisbane and didn't have a copy of the paper, and my column wasn't that awesome that it was published on the net. 

My workmate, Jimmy sent me a text telling me my name had been jumbled with the columnist's name from the previous day. 

When I eventually saw the woeful column, it wasn't just the byline that was an issue. I'd made the error of spelling 'stork' wrong - in the context of 'Since I was delivered by a stork'. I spelt it 'stalk'. 

I didn't need the frame for the story after all, or pocket space.  

Ding. 

Oh…I think the penny just dropped. 

It's about time I just let things go so I can move on with my next 27 years. 

False alarm. 

It wasn't a penny, my housemate just dropped her fork. 

And PS. after some Googling, it was actually a cumulous cloud (yes Google - please sponsor me, you do have all the answers). 

Damn it. 

-Ends- 




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