Monday blues

(This was written on a piece of paper, this past Monday, faithfully reproduced here)

I realise, after having read the story of the blogger who was offered a £70 000 publishing deal, that mine is lacking direction and a clear purpose. More or less like my life, at the moment.
I envy people who know what they want to do in life, and stick with their decisions. I am still deciding what to do when I'm grown up. Which is, these days, at 40, when life begins. Or, like the BBC Radio 4 comedian said, 40 is how long it takes to realise you have a life.

I've always wanted to be a writer. At 16 I visited an educational psychologits who submitted me to a battery of tests and interviews in order to assist me in the serious subject of future career plans. At 16?!! My number one choice was:
To become a journalist and see the world.
He told me that I was an idealist, and I promtly went off to study music, the more sensible choice. I see now that I'm not much of a rebel.

But since I'm only 33, my life has technically not yet started. And because I am a woman, I am able to a lot of things at the same time, successfully.