"My ovaries are stale..."

Sitting on the sofa listening to the hum of my washing machine and watching my two cats sun-tanning in the balcony, it suddenly hits me that I am a grown-up. Damn it! I can no longer blame every stupid thing that I do on the recklessness of youth because I am a youth no more! I am actually responsible for my apartment, the survival of my pets (I will try to feed the guinea pig on a more regular basis because feeding him less doesn't mean he'll poop less...) and the welfare of the some 90 kids that I teach. Egad! I am responsible! My new car will be here in a few days and, dear friends, I will officially be in debt. Gawd, the responsibilities are mind boggling. And I don't even have children...

I told my class that my ovaries are stale. They were making fun of their form teacher who is unmarried - "a long time bachelor" they called him. The said bachelor is unfortunately younger than me and I went on a rather undignified tirade about how it is all right to be old and unmarried and how my ovaries are aging as we speak. They probably think that I'm nuts. I'll be the kind of teacher that will rage at the children for no reason and bemoan that fact that I'm single and childless because of them. When I pass them, they would give me a wide berth and whisper "eccentric old spinster" behind my back... Oh dear.

Back to being responsible, sometimes I surprise myself e.g. how I manage to keep my house relatively clean, how I always have a supply of Kleenex 3 ply flower embossed toilet roll and toothpaste, how I have never taken an mc from work, how I have not gotten into serious trouble at work (yet) and I still have my job! Hurrah!

Sometimes I hate being a grown-up and I scheme and plot my way out of meetings and other forms of boring shit. Haha! C.Klein, Sir PT and I giggled our way through a film course whilst shouting out irrelevant (and very inappropriate) words like "backside" when asked to identify motifs in the film. Sigh. Not a sign of maturity. Or when I give Iron Maiden attitude and throw files on my desk... I swear it makes my life a tad more exciting.

A toast to being a grown-up *chugs the champange* (the only thing I have in my fridge...)