This all began with an exchange between my niece and I. Principally laughing at our respective menfolk. Well, I say laughing, more an hysterical-I’m-going-to-wedge-a-blunt-instrument-in-his-head kind of laughing.
Anyway, the question was then posed by my niece “should I admire women who’ve had the courage to say f*** this shit, I’m off! And are they any happier in the long run? And where do you draw the “f*** this shit I’m off line? Why is life so hard?” (technically this was four questions, but she was on a roll and who was I to stop her?)
And so I replied “it’s so pointless the things that really wind me up. Mostly, I’m left seething with resentment, raging against his apparent fuckwittedness, while said male is in his blissful little bubble of ‘man world’ happy and carefree, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I’ve developed pathological levels of anger towards him (which is also deeply annoying. He doesn’t even notice I’m mad as hell!!) I’m the one left feeling like crap. I’m the one having a sleepless night. I’m the one feeling sad and lonely. I’m the one wondering if this is all there is?
I have my own theory on ‘f*** this shit, I’m off to Narnia’ and that is we lurch from one unfulfilling and unhappy relationship to another, looking for the one male who isn’t pathologically irritating, only to discover it’s an urban myth. Like a unicorn, or none-fattening chocolate, and that we should have stuck with the first one and saved ourselves a heap of angst and money.
Why, oh why, is life so hard indeed? I keep being told ‘life’s not all Walt Disney” Well I disagree. In my world every day is Walt Disney, and anyone disagreeing can just f*** off to Warner Brothers!