It is depressingly cold at night, but I also believe Hubby may be stuck in the u-bend of life. There is a story in the Economist that explains the global phenomenon of the u-bend of life. This is a dip in happiness that occurs, in every country and culture, in middle age. The bottom of the dip is mid-forties. That's where Hubby is. Stuck in the u-bend with his arctic sleeping bag and insomniac tendencies. And it'll be me soon, no doubt (although the research in the article claimed that women were generally happier, although more prone to depression - go figure).
Last night I went to a 50th birthday dinner. I didn't really know anyone there, apart from the woman whose birthday it was. And nobody else seemed to know anyone that well either, so we all ended up talking about our dogs, like Barbara Woodhouse wannabees (perhaps that's the way to deal with the u-bend of life, get a dog?). We had all brought little gifts and played this strange game whereby all the gifts go in the middle and you each take a number, then you get to choose a present to open when it's your number or, even better, take an already-opened present off someone else. I somehow ended up with a cheery plastic elephant with dollar signs in his ears. I think this is supposed to bring me wealth if I place it facing a door on a Tuesday afternoon with the sound of rushing water to the left of it. Or something. Decided to give it to Twin 2 in lieu of pocket money.
I also discovered something interesting about the lovely party hostess. She has her own personal Nepali astrologer. She says all Nepalis have an astrologer so she's got herself one as well (when I told Hubby, he said, I bet that astrologer is laughing all the way to the bank - I think that life's u-bend does make you a little bit cynical about such things). I have never had a personal astrologer, and I'm certain that my smashing husband would be appalled if I even suggested such a thing (even getting him to go for a Japanese massage was a struggle, with the unspoken implication that it was girly new-age nonsense). However, I used to read Mystic Meg every Sunday in hmmm, can't even remember which sleazy red-top it was now - possibly News of the World - and her advice was always sound. She'd say things like, "The moon in Venus tells me you must wear green on Wednesday and beware of a man in a red car". Now, that is the kind of decent astrological advice I like. I wonder if Mystic Meg is still around, and if she lives in a dark purple room filled with cats? Perhaps she could be called upon to give Hubby some advice about navigating the u-bend of life. She could say something like, "The moon in Uranus tells me that you must put three quilts on the bed on a Thursday, and beware of brown splodges on the road".
Tomorrow is the last day of the school holidays!
xxx
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