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OLD, POOR, AND PARALYZED, I THANK THEE*

Dear Breakup Girl,

My faith in you knows no bounds. Gee, BG, I don't know how busy you are, and when I think of therapists who get $100 an hour who aren't a sixteenth so smart and spunky, I wonder why/how you can dispense no-charge advise, so I don't want to assume anything, but --

Do you ever turn your infinite wisdom towards other questions besides break-up girl-guy stuff? I'm going through a stage in my life (it can strike anytime, I know, and it has before): I'm 41, single, involved but not with a guy I can see being with forever, a little lonely, no kids...and my brain is crammed with guilt-inspiring "shoulds."

You know --and I keep telling that little voice to shuddup -- "You should try harder," "You should like that job you don't like, any idiot would kill for it," "You should do more ab crunches and call your mother," ad nauseum.

Tons o' guilt. Who IS that voice? Why can't I just go to a movie and eat double-buttered popcorn and not berate myself for all the things I haven't done, haven't accomplished, haven't even TRIED to do, lazy excuse for a human being that I am.

I feel this double-buttered GUILT: not only am I NOT Mistress of the Universe at this stage of my life, I'm actually a pathetic slacker with nothing to show for all my years in the business of living. So why do my ultra-slacker friends have self-satisfaction and guilt-free days to burn and I'm filled with wretchedness? I "should" be happy!

I wouldn't mind any of it so much if The Voice of Should wasn't effectively drowning out my own little voice trying to tell me what I, myself, might want to do with my life! Oh, to be free to bake cookies and eat raw dough and have friends over for tea and NOT faithfully deep-condition my hair and vacuum under the bed and agonize over a misspent existence. As you may have guessed, this is SO in my head; I'm a food and wine critic as a moonlighting job, have two television series under my belt as a wine/travel host, have a demanding full-time job as a Supreme Court Registrar on top of that, and do some freelance assorted other stuff. Envy? Jealousy? Of that other food writer who just published a recipe book? Dammit, how come I didn't write one? Or the other one who has a hubby and security and doesn't have to work like an utter dog? Unloveable me. Oh, where have I gone WRONG, Breakup Girl?

I had a hysterectomy in June that went significantly awry, loss of blood galore (I'm still taking iron pills for anemia) then I got a major infection, then I had a hematoma, then I got Mono cuz I was so run down, I'm just back at work now, so I know all that has something to do with feeling like a hurtin' unit. But I've always been hard on myself -- oh, my horrible childhood, etc... -- and I'm getting fed up. Why can't I get a grip?

My horrible confession: I don't WANT to do anything sometimes. I wanna navel-gaze and drink a million espressos and watch the world go by without me. I don't wanna write a damn cookbook, I don't want to reach for The Top, I just want to BE. Isn't that disgusting? I know...and I reckon that if word gets out to God/The Cosmic Muffin, lightning will strike me dead for being such a bad, baaaad girl. Hmmm. I hope Whoever's watching doesn't read your e-mail.

Anything insightful I can print out and stick to the fridge would be a huge help.

-- Robin

Dear Robin,

Don't worry, only I read my email. As far as I know.

And listen: more people Should want to be like you. I mean: Want to BE, like you. You're closer to whatever it is you're looking for than you think. All of us --from slackers to CEOs -- have the Voice of Should. Who/what is it? Damned if I know. All I can tell you is that it's part of the human stereo system. But few of us realize that that's all it is: a disembodied voice. Most people think it's, like, real. All those people at The Top may not even know what cookie dough tastes like.

Still, I'm not sure the Voice is going to shaddup. Let's say you do publish a cookbook. Yay! But then the Voice will say, "All that time holed up in your test kitchen, you could have been meeting someone who could have held your hand through the hysterectomy." Hmm. Or let's say you find a rich secure hubby. Yum! But then the Voice will say, "Get off your lazy ass and write a goddamn cookbook."

So the voice is not going anywhere. Relax, this is good news. You can stop covering your ears and going "LALALALALAI'MNOTLISTENING." See, it's Should that's buzzing in your ears, but it's your voice that's drowning out the matinees. Let it just drone in your life the way you absorb your alarm clock into your dreams -- still there, but you don't hear it. Muffle it with double-buttered popcorn and cookie dough [Make it without eggs. -- Breakup Mom.]

Anyway, never mind me, stick poem #16 on the fridge. Then use anything by SARK as wallpaper.

Love,
Breakup Girl

* It's Whitman, you philistines! ; )

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