A Day in the Life.

Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head....

Well, sorta.

I very nearly called this instalment Life on Mars coz it kinda is. It's somewhat akin to a prolonged, slightly uncomfortable but rather easy, phase in one's twenties. Being childless, that is.

For your edification, may I present An Infertility Friend's production of, ChildlessOldCrones.com.

Wake up, go to work. Finish work, hang out, have a glass or two of cheap vino. Hey, we teachers earn crud, y'all.

Drive home, boil some pasta or whatever, fix a friendly brandy, lime and soda, sit in bed with my laptop and TV. Sleep.

Repeat X 5. Then, weekend. Sleep in till 10, turn on ducted heating, stroll down the street and get the paper. Turn on iPod, think about doing some housework but go shopping down Brunswick St instead. Buy some stunning clothes for the next special occasion, grab a large dish of latte with free biscotti from Retro bar, head home to chill some more. Catch up with season 3 of The Tudors on my foxtel IQ, open a bottle of Sauv blanc, toss some pasta through pesto and relax. Think about trip to Vanuatu in 2 weeks.

This is a typical week for me. I don't miss the kid thing in reality, because as much as I attempt to, I have no real idea what it entails. It's all a wee bit hypothetical, particularly as it will truly always be a day in someone else's life.