With the start of a new year comes the reality, for all of us, of facing yet another birthday. Suddenly, I’m feeling old. I will be 49 this year. That’s like really old, mature, aging, senior. Just WTF am I doing, I wonder each morning.
Come Tuesday, TC will come trotting off the airplane, he’ll try and be all cool, long black hair jumping about. Spying me at baggage claim, he’ll look down, try and be smooth but can’t help but smile, approaching his greeting will be “you’re so stupid”. Yes, that would be me. The old well worn shoe, a fit for every occasion.
I’m a bit apprehensive, the next few weeks will be a new test and I’m right in the middle of a business launch. Money will have to take precedence. TC will do whatever he wants and frankly he needs to make his own decision, he knows exactly where I stand. It’s impossible for me to be more reassuring to him than I have.
I expressed my concerns to Prof. Tim who quickly pointed out the last thing he was worried about for me was ‘meeting new people’. I was scared to ask what he was “worred about” for me. Something worse perhaps?
But I’m comfortable with the role I play. I’m the marrying type. I’m playing a serious game with you. I’m not going to simply date so we can try that new restaurant. I’m not interested in sleep over games when it’s convenient. I also don’t come with a circle of queenie friends who must accept (or reject) you into their clan. I’m not into home decorating or what Lady Ga Ga is doing. I’m downright dangerous for a novice to fool with.
The good news, you can define yourself however you wish and as long as you play the role, others will have to play their part opposite you. Early on I waffled a bit, unsure of what I was doing or what I wanted. My next phase starts with a fair bit of clarity.