Planet Mad

How old would you think you were, if you woke up one morning and couldn't remember?
Quite a poser, that question. Once upon a time, when I was young and had my own teeth and hair, I was able to stay up night after night. I could be found in bars, pubs, clubs and - on odd occasions - in the spod centre manically trying to research and write an entire essay between the hours of 11pm and 9am. Yesterday's little adventure into Late Night Land has made me appreciate quite how old I am. Those carefree days of all-night parties followed immediately by 9 o'clock lectures are rapidly fading in the distance, and soon I will be making a request that no-one phones me after 8.30pm, as I will be tucked up in bed with a good book and a mug of cocoa. However, those days are not here yet and I will be fighting kicking and screaming before I join the "growed up and sensible" brigade.
I reckon I'd be about 18 or 19.