Readers. Things at TLYW headquarters are about to take an interesting turn. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it but I am the parent of a young adult. Let’s call him Little G. Ever since this blog started, Little G has been away at university in a city that’s not London. Well, Little G has finished his degree and he is moving back home. In here. With me. To live with me, until further notice. He is going to need help finding a place on a corporate graduate training scheme and he’s going to need some expensive dental work before it’s even worth attending any interviews, something he’s been putting off until he was finished with all his exams.
Let us consider the practical implications of this new state of affairs.
Things that will have to cease immediately:
– Entertaining hot dates at my place. Not that my sex life isn’t dead in the water at the moment anyway, but in the lifespan of TLYW I’ve had more sex here than I’ve had anywhere else and only a fraction of it was in the bedroom. So I guess we can say goodbye to all that. This is the part I am most gutted about. I mean, sure, if I had a nice, steady boyfriend my own age who only wanted to have sex really quietly under the duvet, there wouldn’t be a problem. But (1) I am not in the market for a nice, steady boyfriend, (2) the age thing is an issue because my admirers skew young, there will have to be a complete ban on Klaus coming over because he is so young that Awkward Scenes will result if Little G were ever to meet him; (3) the thought of having sex quietly under the duvet makes me feel like giving up on sex altogether. Not that JC is a consideration, but just to give an example, I doubt he has ever seen the wrong side of a duvet in his whole life.
This is not good, in fact I am dismayed. I am going to have to go through my entire flat and hide anything that betrays evidence of my sex life because my place will no longer be the lair of the Acid Queen but a family home in which I get to be Mommy. I will even have to be careful about what I’m doing on my computer because I have a large monitor right here in the living room and some of the IM conversations I’ve had with JC, on so many happy evenings, achieved heights of obscenity that would have made the Marquis de Sade break out in a round of applause. No more of that, you can’t have someone who calls you Mommy walking in on that.
I suppose I can also say goodbye to: walking around the house in the nude; sleeping with my bedroom door open; drying my freshly-washed underwear in the hall.
Other things that will have to cease forthwith, and at least these are all to the good:
– occasionally smoking cigarettes out of the window (good, this is good).
– periodically letting the flat get into a complete state and not cleaning the bathroom or doing the washing up.
New practices that will have to begin:
– buying food and meal planning. Fucks sake. At the time of writing, there is almost no food in my fridge. There’s a bit of salad that’s about to go off and some cheese that might or might not still be okay. I have tended to regard the fridge as basically a place for storing cocktail ingredients. So it is not empty. It just doesn’t have any food in it. Previous experience of living with Little G tells me that if he is left to his own devices, he will not cook, he will just go to the kitchen and nosh on whatever is high-calorie and can be eaten straight out of the pack. This is an expensive way to live. It also leads to a lot of waste. Also, unlike me, he does need to eat regularly (I can’t remember the last time I had an evening meal at home, I am either out or else I don’t bother). There is one solution to this problem and it makes my heart sink a bit. I am going to have to start doing weekly meal plans, like Flylady says to, thinking ahead about matters such as Breakfast and Dinner, shopping for groceries and preparing and eating actual meals at actual mealtimes. This is the only way that I will be able to feed him while keeping food costs under control.
– budgeting. Oh, this is long overdue, isn’t it. I’ve put it off for so, so long but now is the time.
Existing practices that will benefit from the new regime:
– Chinese. If I’m going to live like a nun and adhere to practices such as organised Mealtimes, then I can see how I will get a lot of Chinese homework done.
– Running. As above. All this clean living ought to make going for a run seem like a real thrill. There will no longer be a contest between clean living and the sort of living that makes you wake up with a hangover and a hot 25-year-old, thus putting running completely out of the picture.
Oh, readers. It’s going to be okay, isn’t it? Tell me it will be okay. My life doesn’t have to be one long episode of Sex and the City in order for me to be happy, does it?