Can’t fight this feeling anymore…..!

DURING my career as a professional singleton I have been lucky enough to be given various bits of advice, mostly concerned with dating, men and relationships. As most of this advice has been gladly parted with by friends who are seemingly smugly married, it would have appeared rude to ignore them. And by and large, most of what they divulge happens to be true. They are all experts after all.
The advice has ranged from ‘play the field get out there and enjoy yourself’ or ‘shag anything you can, you’re not getting any younger,’ to ‘don’t turn it into a military campaign! Just go with the flow and see what happens,’ and possibly one of my favourites ‘don’t write the script babe, either he will fall in love with you….or…..err…he won’t!’ An inspired stroke of genius if ever there was one.
The ‘not trying too hard’ comment certainly has some resonance with me and I do think there is an argument for not going out and actually LOOKING for love. Whenever I have tried to do that I have found myself in various bars all dressed up like a hooker trying to make coquettish eye movements at any man within spitting distance. I probably looked like I had had a stroke or just been let back into the community….
So I am all for letting things happen naturally or letting nature take its course. Of course that’s fine when you are 32 but at 42 things are generally looking pretty bleak on the dating front, I am actually beginning to think that my lady garden area may well be experiencing more than a drought and more of a healing over process if something doesn’t happen soon, but readers, friends….what can I say….ain’t nothing going’ on but the rent!
Of course Sunday mornings don’t help as that devil of the airwaves Steve Wright with his bloody love songs is determined to tip me over the edge with all his messages of love and commitment. They blast out of my radio to remind me that I am actually the only person in the world who is single. To torture myself even more I then spend all day listening to REO Speedwagon or Sad Cafe or Foreigner or Bread (if things are really bad).
We are in a period of austerity, and this seems to be extending itself to my love life, in fact we are heading for a serious winter of discontent (and serious lack of snogging). So what do I do to combat this abject single life misery that I find myself in? Oh…I have thrown myself into my children, my work and my home. The dog has never been fitter (in fact he is as fit as a butcher’s dog) and I am constantly choosing paint colours for my walls. I have also been nurturing a spider called Sheila since the autumn.
I don’t really like spiders to be honest and they actually make me scream like a girl, but Sheila…well she is different. Sheila is one of those stripey spiders and she has been happily living above the radiator in the kitchen since about September 28-much to the disgust of everyone, including my best friends and my ex husband who only yesterday described her as a ‘new addition to the household’ in a kind of ‘ you’re still single and you are living your life vicariously through a spider’ kind of way. (well he would if he knew what vicariously meant) My best friend Emma was aghast that I was co habiting with Sheila and was almost put off her wine last night at supper by the thought of my eight-legged friend landing on her head.
But I am sorry, Sheila is pregnant and she’s a single parent and therefore she needs me. She has no proper support network, no access to benefits…what can I say? Single parents need friends too you know.
So, I have been carefully dusting around Sheila and her myriad of webbage for the last few weeks/months. This very afternoon, in preparation for the coming of the decorator next week I had had to make a tough decision to move her-for fear of her being emulsioned. So, I had planned to re home her in a geranium in the conservatory.
I gingerly started making my way to her nest to extract her using a feather duster as I got nearer and nearer I started to feel very brave but very guilty as she was clearly having her afternoon nap…then the reality hit me. Sheila was actually DEAD.
As I retrieved her, various body parts started to dismember.
So…there we have it. I have no boyfriend, no prospect of one and the spider that I was so kindly nurturing is dead and has probably been dead since about October 12. There I go again….trying too bloody hard.
Stupid nature.

Published by Sarah Adams

I am the author of The Life Edit, an eight step personal development coaching programme that harnesses the power of journalling and writing to help people make transformational changes to their lives. I am also journalist and writer who has worked for newspapers, magazines, TV and online for the last 35 years, and an accredited personal development practitioner. I have written books, appeared on TV and radio and have worked in the world of corporate communications as a senior manager. I launched and ran The Community Media Group for ten years-this is a social enterprise that exists to produce professional, community newspapers in socially challenging areas as well as providing free training.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: