I didn’t plan for these in-between years -- too young to cash in on retirement funds; too old to get myself a Sugar Daddy.
I’m out of work. Apparently the legal secretary profession has gone the way of travel agents, switchboard operators and newspaper writers – a dying profession.
I have supported myself as a legal secretary since I was 19 years old. I’ve treated myself to wonderful vacations in exotic locations; and live in a comfortable apartment with nice furniture. I own way too many martini glasses for one person.
When I was in my late 30’s I met a man who liked to fish. I tell you that so I can explain his nickname. I called him Slappy after comedienne Elayne Boosler’s hilarious bit about Slappy the bait shop guy. It fit. Slappy moved in, and we split the bills.
The first six months were great – we were in looooooove.
The next year and a half were comfortable.
The last two years we were polite and respectful to each other, but we weren’t in love, so we parted ways.
I like living alone. Some people don’t understand this concept. They say “aren’t you lonely, living alone?”
The truth of the matter is that I am alone, not lonely. There is nothing lonelier than lying in bed night after night with someone after the love has gone away – that’s lonely. I am just alone – huge difference.
When Slappy left, so did his half of the bill money. I was used to being financially responsible for myself, so I sucked it up and went on.
What a Schmuck!
I still had some good years left. I should have gotten myself a Sugar Daddy. I could kick myself in the ass. Oh no, I was independent. I don’t need a man to take care of me, I don’t want to answer to any man. Blah, blah, blah. I guess I read one too many “Ms.” magazines!
I didn't see what was coming down the road. In my late 30’s, early 40’s it wouldn’t have been so bad. I still had hormones to get into the mood, could have snagged myself a 60-something Sugar Daddy.
Hell, I was happily giving it away for free back then. Sure, Slappy paid half the rent, but he really didn’t have to – Wink! Wink! 
I’m 53! I can’t get a Sugar Daddy now – he’d have to be at least 85 and half blind.
Plus, these days moving my leg an inch in the wrong direction can mean a Charlie Horse from Hell! There’s nothing sexy about me screaming
“Ow, ow, OUCH!”
“My leg, my leg, my leg,!”
“Get off me Asshole!”
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| For Couples with Neck and Back Pain |
I have always prided myself on being the type of employee that when asked to perform a job, I perform that job to the best of my ability. So the last thing I need is some 85 year old fart with nose hairs and a three-month prescription for Viagra.
Oh goodie, the rent bill was just delivered -- hey Big Guy, do you offer dental?.
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