So who ever read my “getting laid to feel like a lady” post will know that I’m single. Apologies for its disappearance but my family were less than impressed and with some guilt and their general prudish nature made me take it down.
However, this blog isn’t supposed to be just about boats. It’s about life. Single life. Damp life, Floating life. All of it. Even the stuff that makes my mum wonder if she really knows me. I have come to terms with being single and am very contented with the fact that I will probably die alone with a fleet of half-finished boats. My granny once told me that I would never find a husband if I keep running around getting drunk and being incorrigible. On another occasion a founder of The Association for Shipwrights told me I must be inundated with offers from potential husbands because they would never be nagged to put up any shelves. I prefer my grans opinion to that of a sexist old dick head that didn’t look as though he had ever done a hard days graft.
What I want to know is how do other people cope with being a grown up when you’re all on your tod?
It would be nice to share your day with someone, to have a tall person to get high up things for me. Someone to brainstorm ideas with. Someone to bring me out of my feral little world n make me do normal things occasionally. I had a boyfriend a while back and he was a good example of this. He turned out to be a tosser but he did do some good things. I went sailing round Holland with some old gaffers and to say I was out of my comfort zone is an understatement. We went out for dinner in fancy places every night and I had to drink things I’d never heard of. One evening I had to subtly ask a lady how to eat a crab but the whole table heard me and burst out laughing. So the next evening I spent an hour making a very expensive international call to my boyfriend who kindly explained the in’s and out’s of fancy shellfish, what they were called, which bits to eat and how on earth you get them open. I think the most grown up I have ever felt was when my boss invited me to his sons Christening. It was the first time I’d ever been invited to any kind of civilised grown up event aside from my sister’s wedding. It took me about 3 days to prepare for and I made awkward small talk with people for a few hours and then hurried back to my boat.
Life is much harder for us single folk. The guys I work with come in every morning with freshly made healthy lunches prepared lovingly by their wife who does the shopping. I come in with a squashed banana. They come in clean clothes freshly showered. I alternate my work clothes to make people think I’ve washed them but in reality, I haven’t had the time to waste, cycling to the laundrette n watching it spin round for an hour only to get my gear out n find it looks as dirty as it did when I put it in. Their wives do their taxes and manage their money. I spend every penny I earn on broken boats and then end up more broke than my boat and consequently must eat squashed bananas for a week.
I have reached the conclusion that if I am to ever successfully master the art of adulting then I need a house husband. Despite all the afore mentioned tasks I am also just inadequate when it comes to caring for my basic human needs. Sometimes work just sucks absolutely everything out of me. I get home, I’ve run out of water, the electrics tripped out, I’m grubby, I’m exhausted and eating is the last thing on my list. Showering is a pretty low priority too. Other times I get home and I’ve got a tonne of energy but any of the boring things are off the agenda so I do something completely ridiculous instead. For example the other week I built a miniature wooden clad toy barn for my nephew. Last year I built him a huge dovetailed toy box in my tiny boat, cut and fitted all by hand. Glued it together and discovered it was too big to get out of my hatch. This evening I built an 8ft Christmas tree out of 3×2 and suspended it from the front of my boat wrapped in fairy lights. So basically, I think what I need is someone to make sensible decisions for me and keep me a little bit grounded. Which is a lovely idea but I know I’m far too stubborn and I wouldn’t listen to a word of it. I prove to myself I’m stubborn far too regularly. Today I did the washing up, sounds like a minor task I know but it’s the first time I’ve done it in 4 weeks. I’d built up such a huge resentment for the damn pile that I didn’t eat anything that required a knife n fork, a plate, any kind of preparation or cooking for a month. Now I’ve done it and I’ve decided to have crisps for dinner but I put them in a bowl so that I could benefit from the fruits of my labour.
I’m not sure what the answer is. I thought First Dates might shed a bit of light on the matter but it all it did was make me realise that out of 100 thousand people they still couldn’t find anyone to put up with me.
Should I just resign myself to dying alone with my fleet of unfinished boats for company or should we all keep looking? I don’t think humans are really meant to live alone but I find that the boating community fills this void to an extent. There is always someone to talk to somewhere. Maybe that’s enough.
So folks, what are the answers? There must be someone with some wisdom out there somewhere.