That question about the bone worked so well – thanks all, it really helped, because it all made sense – I thought I’d try another one. I mean, I’ve been asking it ever since I started blogging but thought I’d make it explicit just for now.
What should I do with my life? And how do you get rid of that vague feeling which descends from time to time – you know, the one that leaves you thinking ‘well, yes, that’s true, and yet…’. Do I just need to wait until I reach 41?
I believe that vague feeling IS life . . .
I thought you might say that…
Why 41? Is it because ’42’ is the meaning of life?
The other day, a friend told me she’d read somewhere that a woman is at her peak at the age of 41? Peak of what?, I wanted to know. I think she was just trying to be optimistic because she’ll be turning 41 next week.
Leave your bloke, sell the kids into slavery, steal a car, abandon the dog at Oodnadatta and start a sect.
Hope that helps, T.
I was just thinking 41 because maybe then I will be filled with the promise of a new decade rather than just fretting about one passing without having finished all that I was thinking I might get around to doing.
That might work Tony T. With the added bonus that if I sold the kids I could afford to buy a car (because they are so gorgeous and clever of course), and wouldn’t need to begin my new life followed around by bad carma.
Cultivate people who make you laugh like a jelly (see above)
I was far more articulate regarding the bone.
My mother started crocheting a tablecloth in 1978. It’s about half finished.
Perhaps it is an heirloom to be passed down through the generations until someone finishes it.
I was more articulate about the bone, too. Nice try at getting an answer to a big question, though.
Wimps! The lot of youse.
Women are in their prime from the time they are born till the time they die. But from my male point of view, they develop a particular magic from some time in their thirties.
‘Wimps! The lot of youse.’
Oh, all right then, here’s my two cents. What should you do with your life? Exactly what you’re doing, if you can get away with it. Hang out with those excellent-sounding children, win standup competitions, write fiction. What’s not to like?
When you’re 41 you’ll be worrying about other things. And when you’re 51 … bwahahahaha.
‘Wimps! The lot of youse.’
Oh, all right then, here’s my two cents. What should you do with your life? Exactly what you’re doing, if you can get away with it. Hang out with those excellent-sounding children, win standup competitions, write fiction. What’s not to like?
When you’re 41 you’ll be worrying about other things. And when you’re 51 … bwahahahaha.
Now, mr tiley, if that is not the best comment on this here internet I don’t know what is. You rock.
There’s nothing not to like, PC. Nothing at all. It’s a great life. Just wish it made me a living. And I’d like to get rid of the iceberg roses.
Well, I did say “if you can get away with it” and I do so agree that that is a biggish if.
If Mr Tiley meant that once we’ve developed the particular magic we then keep it for ever, then I agree that he does, in fact, rock.
As for the iceberg roses, perhaps a chainsaw massacre …?
Well, I did say “if you can get away with it” and I do so agree that that is a biggish if.
If Mr Tiley meant that once we’ve developed the particular magic we then keep it for ever, then I agree that he does, in fact, rock.
As for the iceberg roses, perhaps a chainsaw massacre …?
Can’t you sell the iceberg roses? (They show you how to transplant them on Gardening Australia.) Then you could make some money and you could choose whether to buy the car and start the sect or just keep doing the other things you’re doing.
Also, I reckon dogs should eat bones. Why else would they have those big old bone eating teeth.