When I was 18, I was already a grandma at heart. I never felt the need to go out into a crowd and party. In fact, the thought of that would exhaust me. At 20, still in college, I had a "hifalluting" job as a translator at a TV station. I was not at all interested in the celebrities that came and went. I would ride the subway with all the Roppongi girls dressed up to their eyeballs for the night on town, and wonder what made them so excited. At 21+, I am no different. If I didn't have to eat rats and mice, I would be a cat. Lying in the sun, doing nothing in particular, and just wondering.... I sure hope I get to do this (not the eating rats and mice part) when I am a grandma (but no rush, kids).
On the other hand, there is that obsessive compulsive side. I am eternally grateful that I am a woman, and not a man. Had I been a man, I would have been intolerable (although perhaps I am, even as a woman), driving myself to the edge and dragging people around me into the vortex. My husband does not drag. He simply drives on his own, with enormous stamina.
Today, Julien succumbs to the tummy bug, but seems better in the evening. It's like a wave, this bug. It manifests its tenacity each day on a different person. The only ones that remain immune are my husband and Charlie.
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