Earlier today, while in Muswell Hill's STARBUCKS (enjoying a festive Egg Nog and Mince Pie), I was visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future, in the form of Journalist, Liz Jones in her Daily Mail column.
Normally, I quite enjoy reading her weekly column, even if knowing about her life makes me appreciate mine. However, this week’s instalment left me thinking, 'What if ... that's me ten years from now?'
The headline to Liz’s column should sum her up for you, 'Wish me a lonely Christmas and spare a thought for the millions of single women like me, says Liz Jones (Good God!).
For those of you not familiar with Liz, she writes about her life as a single, neurotic, eccentric, childless, late-forty-something woman. Every week she shares her inner-most thoughts and feelings with us, from her marriage break-up, to leaving London life behind and moving to Exmoor (with her SEVENTEEN cats and two horses).
She’s never short of material. One week she chose to immerse herself FULLY into the world of being unemployed and living on Benefit, all in a bid to help her appreciate her highly paid salary (although, the extent of her immersion is questionable, as during this particular week I spotted her sipping 15 pound Cocktails in the bar of swanky hotel, The Sanderson!).
As a regular, I'm use to reading about her self-obsession and 'woe is me' attitude, but it was her description of her Christmas food shop, (see extract below) that really made me want to slap her.
'Contents of my basket: one bottle of vintage Cava, six sprouts, two potatoes, one onion, Cox's apples and nuts in shells.
I sobbed a bit lobbing these into my basket, as I knew I would never be able to crack the almonds without the help of my former husband.
Everywhere you look at this time of year, those of us who live alone are deemed wanting. The inevitable footage on the TV news of traffic jams on the motorways makes me wail: 'Why is no one driving to see me, laden with parcels and food hampers?'
Well, Liz ... I can answer your question, because you're not exactly a barrel of LAFFS. You need to perk up, move back to London and stop bloody whinging.
In the words of my good friend The Top Personal Assistant, “God help the builder who calls out to her, 'Cheer up love, it might never happen.”
So, what have I learnt from reading Liz’s column this week? I refuse to get a cat or move to the countryside while I’m single.
If any of you are interested in reading her column, please find link below. (Ps. if you’re even slightly hormonal, don’t read it as you might feel worse!).
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1237311/LIZ-JONES-Wish-lonely-Christmas-spare-thought-millions-women-like-me.html
Happy Christmas.
Yours, Doris. x
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