When do you recharge your batteries?

When do you recharge your batteries? I get the chance overnight even though I'm still being used!
Let me introduce myself, I'm Jason, Chelles iPhone. I was named after one of her friends who's intelligent, but can be a little camp at times (I had a stupid sparkly red cover and looked a bit girly, don't let that put you off me).
I'd like to make it clear from the outset, I'm treated very well. I'm pleased to say she changed my awful red cover to a slightly better one, only slightly better though as its mauve, I mean, who wants to wear mauve. Doesn't my mistress realise I'm a manly man! It's a good job I'm not confused about my sexuality! After all, if I was human I'd be Hollywood hard-man Vinnie Jones (but better looking).

I spend most of my time in her soft hands while she gently taps away at my slim torso. She gazes at me in deep thought before using my keyboard to its full potential then often using the "x" to delete a lot of her words. Unbeknown to Chelley my delete button is one of my erogenous zones and boy does she work it! (The others my space bar) oh yes!

I am my mistresses favourite thing. She plays with me loads more than Leonard (the laptop). He's getting on a bit now though, he's so slow Chelle shouts at him which I find hilarious. Hugo (the home phone) thinks I'm being mean as once upon a time Leonard was her favourite and he spent many an hour sitting on her lap but now he sleeps behind the sofa in his bag the majority of the time.

Chelle uses me for many tasks including;
•Using the Internet
•To play games
•Sending text messages and emails
•Supermarket shopping
•Making lists (she has a lot of those)
•Keeping her diary
•I fulfil her app addiction
•Watching live tv
•Watching catch-up tv (every night, as it helps her to get to sleep)
•Taking photographs and videos
•She even does a lot of her writing on here as she likes that I put all the capital letters and full stops in the right order. I'm also a fabulous speller.
In fact I'm nearly darn perfect for her. I'm always there when she needs me. I entertain her for hours and hours. I ask nothing back in return. I love Chelle unconditionally. But she often works me so hard my battery needs recharging during the day. So she sits me in the kitchen on the breakfast bar and comes and checks on me every few minutes. My boss is so thoughtful, I mean, get this, when she sprays her hairspray she always covers me up with her towel or whatever's at hand. How caring's that?
Her hubs reckons I must be the most used iPhone in the history of iPhones! I mean, I'm busy now and recharging at the same time! Yes, and I can multi task too!

So, when do you recharge your batteries?

Am I too old for a tattoo?

Am I too old for a tattoo? Is there an age limit? Is it not deemed respectable to be inked? Am I respectable?! (I pause) Off course I am (well, most of the time)!
During my thirties I promised that I'd treat myself to a pretty design on my fortieth birthday, I thought of it as being a bit rebellious. I spent many years deciding between a little butterfly or flower. I say years, in fact if I added up the minutes it was probably very few.
As the day grew closer I realised that;
(a) I hadn't chosen which tattoo parlour to use.
(b) I hadn't decided on the design.
(c) I'd be in New York
So having my very first tattoo was postponed. As I'm forty-four this year (oh my gosh) maybe its time I considered it again.
What's brought this on, I hear you ask? Well I spent today with my friend Claire and her daughter Annabel, who's eight. Annabel had a fake tattoo on her arm which I told her looked good. She passed me her pack of "tattoos" that she'd brought with her and said I could choose one if I wanted.
Now, I know what you're thinking, they're for eight years olds not forty-three year old sophisticated ladies! And you're right! I don't play with My Little Ponies (I did once recently,well I was with Annabel) or Barbie dolls. I don't play on the swings or roundabouts. I don't go to the cinema to watch Disney films (only because Annabel has never invited me *sulking) I eat my vegetables. I don't just wear pink. I'm not into Justin Beiber (who?) and I don't watch Hannah Montana.

So you see my dilemma. At my age I shouldn't be wearing stick on tattoos. But I didn't want to upset my little friend, oh no, I'd hate myself for it. We spent a few minutes looking through them. I'll tell you something, they've changed since I was a girl, not a Daffy Duck or Pluto tattoo in sight! I decided on a pretty purple, sparkly star constellation to be positioned on my hand. Once the deed was done I'm not ashamed to say I loved it!
After I'd been temporarily branded we went out for lunch then to an ice-cream parlour. The very nice girl serving us said "I like your tattoo". I thanked her telling her the truth that it wasn't real. I now loved my "tattoo" even more!

I understand that women (and men) have tattoos in their forties and beyond and I'm certainly not judging them. But am I personally too old? What's the point in having one? Will my twenty-one year old son think I'm cool or just plain sad? Am I still clinging on to my youth? The picture below is one I've found and think its quite pretty. I think I'd have it done in purple as it's always been my favourite colour.

Or am I too old for a tattoo?