(posted by Vitriolica)
I dream of a life where I know what I’m doing.
That dream also includes a hillside self-build maniacally-eco-co-existent house, on the side of a beautiful valley in Portugal, no electricity or water bills… and there’s me… pottering around my little self sustaining estate (most likely in dungarees, but for the sake of the dream sequence argument, I’m wearing a floaty diaphanous-but-not-pornographic dress), it’s sunset, I have a gin and tonic in my hand and I knowing what I’m doing.
In the dream, I know what I’m doing for dinner, what I’m realistically going to accomplish in one day, what the children need from me, what my husband needs to hear to de-stress him, what I’m going to watch on the telly, which project I should stick with and which to jettison. I know my place in the scheme of things and I don’t feel guilty for being an artist. In short, I have grown up. In the dream.
I hit thirty five a couple of months ago and I was fully expecting to wake up the next morning with a head full of wisdom and finally feel like an adult. I had been expecting it at 30, at 25, at 21 and 16. But obviously, it was taking its time with me…. but, thirty five came and went and I am no more a grown up than I was when I was thirteen. Bugger.
I still want to go to bed when I damn well want, want to get up when I damn well want, I want to work all day on whatever I want and not have to stop to make the bloody dinner. I want to say “sod it!”, get in the car and sod off for a few days, take the kids with me, or leave them behind, they wouldn’t mind either way. I resent having to do anything like housework, laundry, cleaning… can’t see the point in most of it… it’s just going to get dirty again. I still want to eat ice cream three times a day for a week (the week after, I’d be just as happy eating cabbage the same way). I still want to leave my hair unbrushed then shave it all off on a whim. I still want to go shopping and spend way too much money.
So, I think I shall just give up waiting to grow up.
I’ll just say “sod it!” anyway.
troubled diva 