November 1, 2011 § 33 Comments
Such were my jitters that I forgot when writing yesterday’s post that today’s post is traditionally yesterday’s column in the Times. Here goes:-
I look in the mirror and think, how long is the whole edifice going to hold up so that I remain in with a chance? When you are a single woman and young, the thing that worries you is time running out to have children. When you are a plankton, it is time running out full stop.
Half-term, everyone away, is when time runs on but everything else stops. Worst of both worlds. The notion of an exciting text or email or call: forget it. I am a plankton luxuriously, gloriously, unexpectedly, astonishingly in possession of a few potential if piffling possibilities, but they are all away so any possibility is on hold and, for all I know, pursuing other possibilities of their own elsewhere. There is communication and date shut-down, and too many hours to naval-gaze and opine the fact that one is a plankton and that doesn’t look like changing any time soon.
I go to a lot of films as filler, and a friend came to stay last night. He said it is entirely down to me; there is no relying on anyone else to help, because people don’t. He needs some help getting work but not one of his influential friends has had the wit to put in a word for him. They haven’t thought beyond their own noses. So it is with married folk in relation to their plankton friends. So often people have said, breezily, they will introduce me to a particular man but, with one or two notable exceptions, they never do. How many times can one say, “When are you going to get me round with X?” Maybe twice, then you give up. They don’t understand the poignancy of the in-between times such as half-terms or holidays, let alone have any sense of urgency. Some even say to me, “Stop thinking about finding someone and then you will,” and I want to slaughter them for their lack of imagination. Just as I am a woman, British, of a certain height and weight, class and profession, I am single. It is part of my ID, and I want to change it. Of course I think about it a fair whack of the time.
As I look in the mirror too often during the in-between times, because I have the time, I have a complete sense of urgency but there is bugger all I can do about it. I have made a decision, though, that when Smidgen returns, I shall do everything in my (very limited) power to move things on, for one of the commodities no longer on my side – lots of those! – is time.