If you ever need a barometer for where you are in life at any given time, then look no further than the internet memes you find yourself smiling and nodding along in agreement with.
Perhaps you are a “dog parent” and anything about being outsmarted by a pampered pooch who lives it up like a king or queen (fillet steak dinners; a memory foam mattress in their bed; an overflowing toy box) while you wait on them like an unpaid butler speaks to your soul.
Ditto those who are “owned by a cat” and spend their days receiving blank stares/withering looks in lieu of affection from their feline overlords.
Maybe you are all about armchair schadenfreude. If so, the recent wave of hilarious musings on the Glasgow Willy Wonka Experience debacle with its cringe-inducing, lacklustre props and spirit-crushing vibe will have no doubt tickled your funny bone.
And if you enjoy wry takes about beleaguered employees one-upping inept bosses, you are either on the cusp of burnout or about to enter your “corporate villain” era. I sincerely hope it is the latter.
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As for me? There are a couple of memes lately that have had me doing the telltale smiling and nodding along combo as they struck a chord.
The first decreed that “hot girl summer is cancelled” and we should instead “get ready for old lady spring”. It went on to read: “We’re staying indoors watching Bake-Off, wearing increasingly colourful cardigans, and solving the occasional crime in our retirement village.”
Now, I don’t know about you, but I have never bought into the idea of “hot girl summer”. As someone who becomes a frazzled mess with a fire engine red face the minute the mercury tips 14C, it is a phrase that strikes fear into my heart.
There is a preparedness and polish about “hot girl summer” that is at odds with someone who dresses straight off the clothes airer most days and can go weeks without troubling her armpit hair with a razor.
In contrast, I love the idea of “old lady spring”. It conjures a twinkly eyed mischief where anything goes and plans can turn on a sixpence. Maybe we’ll rustle up some scones, maybe we’ll decide to bring down the patriarchy and overthrow the 1%.
That said, I wasn’t sure at first if “old” was a typo for “cold” but either way it works. Although, given that I’m nudging closer to 50 than 30, there perhaps isn’t the same tongue-in-cheek irony about the term than there is for the whippersnapper Gen Z bod who no doubt coined it.
While I can take or leave Bake-Off (if they erected the big white tent in my garden, I’d draw the curtains a la Des Lynam with showjumping), I do have a soft spot for eye-catching knitwear and I’m all about cosy murder mysteries at this particular juncture.
My perfect Saturday evening: burrowing under a mountain of blankets to binge-watch episodes of Only Murders In The Building, then retiring to bed to binge-read The Thursday Murder Club novels by Richard Osman.
Is there anything more joy-inspiring than sprightly septuagenarians turned Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys? It certainly beats hardboiled, gritty tales about booze-soaked, grizzled police detectives any day of the week (at least in my eyes).
Meanwhile, the second meme to capture the essence of my current epoch reads: “A party bus but instead it picks you and your friends up after a long week and just goes coffee shop, bookstore, ice cream parlour, bakery, aquarium, coffee shop on a loop until you feel better.”
I’m 100% on board with this idea. Let’s just add in a few additional stops: dog park, the middle aisle at Aldi, a garden centre, Blockbuster Video circa 1993 and an all-you-can-eat buffet. Anyone care to join me?
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