Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Door number 42

There is a line in the movie Julie/Julia where, the Meryl Streep character of Julia Child talks about the years she put into the cookbook as possibly being something to do just to have something to do. This of course is right before she gets it published and is just feeling defeated and slightly depressed.

I have to confess, not that it will be much of a shock, that I've been filling my days with stuff to do, just to have stuff to do. My hobbies, projects etc. are filler. Nothing more nothing less.  I turn 42 next month. When I was asked what I regret not having done in my life, the usual came to mind. Not having had the chance to be married obviously at the top of the list, not having a kid, which is a massive shocker to even me given I hate kids, and not having traveled. The career failures didn't really hit the scale at all.

I think the big pressure is that this year is the tenth anniversary of the car accident. Sept 1st will be ten years. I had never seen anything beyond age 32. Literally, I knew I would die at age 32. And I did, for 90 seconds on the operating table the day of the car accident.

Well, now I think I look pretty great for a corpse.

My writing may never be seen beyond the handful of regular readers -you my lovely Spudguns!- who read my blogs, and I've gotten to the point I'm okay with that. The husband must have gotten on the wrong boat/spaceship/pack mule from wherever, and I've gotten to the point I'm almost okay with that, and well turning 42 with only a handful of useful childbearing years left and I've gotten to the point I'm okay with that.
Not having a few fabulous stories to tell around the kitchen table to my younger cousins, that's not cool, that's not fun game, that's not buddies.

I've played it safe for the last ten years, time for an adventure.



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