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Oct. 11th, 2017

Yesterday, I caught sight of myself, pedalling elegantly on my vintage bike, clad in my vintage tweed coat and vintage shoes, towards the station, at 51. Yes 51! And I thought to myself, who'd want a peculiar woman like me. I am such a bizarre mix of traditional, yet outward facing. Morally upstanding, yet sexually very aware and out there. Fat, but fit. Outstandingly brave and confrontational, but wanting somebody to look after her. Well travelled, yet loves sitting in the garden chatting with friends and wine. But when I got home, I was reminded that people actively seek ME. I don't look for them, they look for me. I am what they want. I am desired.

So two potential dates. I am telling myself that one, at 36, is far too young, and the other lives too far away (South coast ). But I shall meet up with them, as they are of interest, appear genuine, and can manage whole paragraphs!

Had a lovely dinner and chat with Roms last night, just the one bottle of vino between us, and so I came home relatively fresh, and filed my report. Pleased about that. However, I may give the munch a wide berth tonight, as I have Chris on Thursday, and I also really need to apply myself to the decorating and cleaning.


Call me Madam

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