Everyone is enjoying that extra day off - the little bonus that is a public holiday that comes every few months. They are spending it with family, netflix bingeing, getting drunk at long lunches, catching up on the DIY..... and I'm just angry. I have possibilities, I'm not totally unpopular, I could have also gone and had a long lunch with friends, but I don't feel I have the luxury of a long boozy lunch. An extra day off for me is just a day when I do the things that I wouldn't have to do if I weren't middle aged and single.
An extra day off is when I try to catch up on being an entire family unit all by myself. There is no one to delegate to in my household, but I still have a household. A house in a constant state of renovation, a flat in town, pets, a full-time fledgling business that isn't thriving and no one to share anything with, no one to moan to, bitch at or cry on. I'm not complaining - I chose to have all these middle class trappings, I worked hard to be able to have so many 'things' that need time and looking after and maintenance, but sometimes it all just gets to be too much and no one seems to get it.
My day hasn't been hellish, but also far from fun. I did get up an hour later than usual, and I did have a half hour nap in the sun after lunch. Apart from that I cooked food for the next few days, (that bit is considered relaxing), I emptied and high pressure hosed the bins, I built furniture that has been waiting for a good few weeks in the garage. I hung some pictures and made a note to try and find someone who is more drill savvy than me to hang the heavier ones. I ploughed my way through dozens of loads of spring cleaning laundry, I sorted out some cupboards, I wrote lists to discuss with the builders, because if I don't write lists I forget everything. A good 50% of this stuff would be what my friends let their other halves do, or their staff, or even their helpful brother/father/cousin. But I've never had a partner, well not one to share bills or chores or a mortgage with, my family are nowhere near and I can't afford staff. In the past, I was proud of being able to do it all myself. A woman who can cope, who doesn't 'need' a man, who just sorts it out herself. But now I'm no longer proud - I'm knackered.
And grumpy. I'm pissed off that I don't have anyone to share dinner with at the end of a long dull day, or someone to pay some of the bills, someone who says 'I'll walk the dogs' occasionally, or someone who can hang a picture. I am equally angry at my friends who say 'well my Bob/Fred/Jack is useless and never does any of that' because that's not the point. For starters, Bob/Fred/Jack exists and that is already half the battle. Secondly, I am sure Bob/Fred/Jack does plenty of other helpful stuff, or brings in a wage and pays some damn bills, or maybe he's a great companion and brilliant in the sack. And if he really does none of that then dump him already.
The other phrase that friends love to say is : 'It'll be alright, it'll all work out'. Yes, it will. Because I will do it all. Alone. So, sooner or later, the building works will be finished, the bills will be paid, the pictures will be hung and the dogs will be walked. But until that day comes, I can't just flit off to lunch at the beach. 'Do you really need to be there?' someone said. Yes - because if I wasn't here, and I was enjoying calamari with my toes in the sand, I would have missed the fact that the builders were about to build the outdoor kitchen in the wrong spot. Not something you can remedy when you get back from the beach.
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