Any Sex & The City fans out there?
Any of you remember the episode where Miranda freaks out because she’s afraid she’s going to become an old spinster living alone, and that she’ll die alone, and she’ll be rotting away in her apartment for days before someone even bothers to look for her?
OK, so I can’t remember the exact details, but it was something along those lines. And as a perpetual single girl, I can honestly say that I could relate.
I mean, that’s a place that I don’t often let my single-girl-brain wander and dwell for too long. Because if I did, I’d be a basket case.
But it is a concern, albeit a little silly, especially at this point in my life. I’m kind of still too young to worry about being an old spinster and dying alone (at least, I hope).
Yet, it’s a thought that has crossed my mind before. Mostly over the past few years, seeing both my grandmother and dad in hospital before passing away, and seeing the family members that were there for them.
If I’m old and sick and lying in a hospital bed, who is going to take care of me? Who is going to visit me? Who is going to be…my person???
It’s a morbid place for my single-girl-brain to go, so you can understand, I’m sure, why I don’t let it stray there often.
But it went there on Monday. Mid-Monday-afternoon, as I headed to my basement to start my laundry, and I slipped on the top step before bouncing down three stairs, ending up on the landing with a basket of dirty laundry on top of me, two very sore elbows, one very sore tailbone, and the wind knocked right out of me.
It should be noted that this is the second time I have done this in the past month. How???? First month on your new feet, Jillian??? I know. I have no idea. I thought after losing weight and becoming more fit, I’d be more agile on my feet. Apparently not.
But the first time it happened, right before Christmas, I was at my mom’s, and while my pride and back were hurt, I didn’t give it much more thought.
This time, though?
This time I was alone.
What if I’d banged my head? What if I’d been knocked unconscious? What if I’d broken something and couldn’t move?
I know my mom would’ve eventually come looking for me, but it could’ve been hours. Probably not even until the following morning, when I didn’t show up for breakfast before work. And if it had been a day when I wasn’t going to work, who KNOWS how long it would have been before she’d go looking for me!!
These are the concerns my mom and her siblings used to have regarding their elderly mother when she lived alone. I remember them harping at her to carry her portable phone with her at all times. But she was in her early 90’s. It’s probably a little ridiculous that I’m having these concerns now, as a 30 year old kid.
But it’s true, right?? It’s a frigging legitimate concern, and you all know it!!!
Ok, so. Right now, I’ve got a mom to look after me, but she can’t take care of me forever. And yes, I have siblings and siblings-in-law and nieces and a nephew and friends who will hopefully one day care enough to check in on me once in a while.
But it’s not the same.
If this wasn’t such a damn morbid post, I’d be putting it under The Single Girl Files. Reason # 987 Why Jill Needs A Husband. So that when I fall down the stairs and break my tailbone, he will hopefully find me and call me a damn ambulance.
God help me.
Welcome to a day inside my crazy brain.