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March 25, 2004
the clocks, they are a tickin'
My birthday is creeping up on me again.
next weekend, in fact. I'll reach yet another stage of thirtysomething.
and I've managed to blunder into the age category in which most women start hearing the tick tick tick of their bodies, telling them to do something soon or be forced to forever experience other people's achievements rather than their own....
Most women my age are moms by now. or thinking about having babies, at least. the whole "ooh, I really gotta get myself a fella - or at least get myself some sperm - and go forth to procreate" thing takes over and they can't enter any baby-filled public space without making a beeline to smell the head or whatever it is baby-wantin' folks get out of holding a tiny poopmachine in their arms.
now, I don't doubt that there is great satisfaction to be found with babymaking - for those whose biological clocks are ticking like mad, a baby will be just the thing.
but I don't have that clock. sure, I want companionship, and I manage not to kick, bite, or otherwise harm the exofoeti that I encounter from year to year. . . but the whole EEK! BABY! MUST HAVE!!! thing is not the ticking noise I hear from day to day.
I DO have a clock, mind, but it's got something to it other than flesh and bone and poop and smiles and birthdays and car payments and college payments and drug rehab payments and someone to abuse you in your old age at the end.
I have an architectural clock.
yup. a ticking inside me that tells me I should go get myself a couple more jobs, pay off this towering debt, and start working on that house I've always wanted.
I think I made it up, the architectural clock excuse, but it explains why I can't stop looking at the housing listings in the paper. why I offer to help my friends install new plumbing in their kitchens, and new lighting in their hallways, before taking over and painting their hallways before they get home with the outlet covers I sent them out for...why I go to home stores, to hardware stores, to knobberies and all sorts of flooring stores on a semi-regular basis.
why, when the weather gets all sunny and warm, I can't keep from my twice-monthly pilgrimages to my favorite architectural doo-dad store to see what's there and wishing I had a home to build around each and every door, window, mantel, and light fixture they've lovingly saved from the wrecking ball...
I think sorting through a pile of old porcelain and fondling row after row of victorian mantels calms me down like holding a fat pink squirmy kid calms the biological beast inside the normal thirty-something babe.
and I need to be calmed down a lot, these days. they're going to start thinking I'm bonkers, at the store. what with the frequent visits to the bones of my future home....
lucky for me, I don't need any boy or sperm to stop the clock from ticking...just time. and money.
oh gosh. I forgot the money part....tick tick tick tick tick tick........
Posted by Heather at March 25, 2004 12:12 PM
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Comments
I don't have that ticking baby thing either :) architecture, hmmmmmm . . . maybe that'll be the latest thing for us chicks with no chicks. (and when you get your abode and you'd like free feng shui advice, I'm your pal!)
Posted by: Katherine at March 25, 2004 04:01 PM
I have got to get you back out to our place.
I've made some small interior advances since you were last there but there's still a long ways to go. I wish I could take a month off and just do house stuff!
Posted by: amy at April 2, 2004 11:24 AM