I'm having a mid-life crisis, only it's sort of in reverse.
I'm on a week's holiday at the moment and absolutely loving it. I've got Tyler today while Little Miss Prim writes her annual reports. I'm off to see an old friend at lunchtime in his brand spanking new posh bungalow, and taking Tyler with me. (Hope he behaves!) See - I could quite easily fit into the 'lady who lunches' category! No problem there. Nice healthy lunch with salad leaves and fruit. See - I'd even lose weight!
I still love the job I do, only I don't want to do it any more. Does that seem kind of retro? I'm not enjoying going to work at the moment and just want to escape from the straight-jacket.
I really want to write all day - not boring local governmentese, but exciting fiction that people actually might want to read without being grabbed by the scruff of the neck and forced to cast a perfunctory eye over my pathetic 'passive-voice disguised as plain-English' offerings.
My ideal existence would be:
1. To look after my grandson for one or two days a week, taking him on exiting adventures to Tescos and garden centres with 'carrots' (sorry ... parrots - these three -year olds are very persistent), wabbits and fishies.
2. To become very efficient secretary in hubby's business and keep up with the invoices and book-keeping in the manner of twenty-something pin-striped PA.
3. While pretending to be PA to hubby, to sit at computer (much like I am now) and write, blog and wallow in being a published writer.
It's nice to dream, isn't it. Still I've got four more days of freedom before being thrown back to the lions, so I'm going to make the most of it!