I had something to tell you, but I can’t remember what it was. It was lighthearted and amusing and didn’t involve me sitting in front of the television watching episode one of Newton’s Law and comparing myself to Claudia Karvan. But comparing, obviously I mean saying such things as, ‘She’s really made a go of things, hasn’t she, she’s so smart and talented and my goodness she is gorgeous.’
One of the good things I’m finding about my late forties is that I’m able to be genuinely admiring of people’s successes because I understand that there’s something much more than luck in sustained success. I understand that there’s been a lot of hard work and resilience and probably a bit of picking themselves up and dusting themselves down going on behind the scenes.
At the same time of course the envy cuts deeper because middle age is as much about coming to terms with one’s middling successes as much as it is coming to terms with one’s mortality. Or perhaps they are both elements of the same thing.
(Newton’s Law has finished now and in my judgment, the jury is still out. Apart from anything else, the music could be way better.)
I still haven’t remembered what it was I was going to tell you about. It wasn’t these bites on my ankle which I got at this time last night when I was also sitting here on the couch and watching television. I don’t know how long its been since I spent two nights in a row sitting on the couch watching television. I’m watching Netflix now. Suits. It’s okay, but it’s no Boston Legal, is it? Though I tell you what it has got that Boston Legal didn’t have: Jessica’s handbags. I’m in season three and she’s just been on with the amazing white handbag ever seen in the history of amazing white handbags. I mean obviously I’d look ridiculous carrying it around Romeo’s Glenelg South Foodland, but it would totally suit me in the alternative life I sometimes construct for myself in my mind.
I’d be better off going to bed than sitting up watching shows that aren’t as good as shows I used to watch. I’m very tired partly because the bites on my ankle kept me awake all night and partly because my neighbours seem to have installed a new security light and its not their fault if they don’t know that every time a possum triggers the light my room lights up like its just been lit up by a security light that’s been triggered by a possum. Imagine how tired I’d be if I hadn’t finally treated myself to the wonder that is a tempur memory foam pillow? Oh my goodness, people get on that STAT.