Baby Kenwood

I've been trying to write today. I've been unsuccessful. Everytime I go to type I get distracted and end up sitting in front of the telly with a bag of liquorice watching the last scene of 'The way we were' over and over and over, tears in my eyes, lips moving in time to the words that are now forever etched in my mind. ('You're girl is lovely Hubbell.' She sure is Katie, but she'll never be you.)

As much as I love that film, and believe me, I do love that film, I can't help but think that my time could be better spent. Its Sunday, I had no plans. I should be writing towards my future. My Dad's words from my childhood-'You're letting nobody down but yourself'-are swirling around my head. And I know they're right. Even my new espadrilles can't distract me from the gaping hole of unfulfilment that is slowly taking over the inside of my body. I swear soon I'll just be a voice without a body.

'Think of all I could have done' I'll be shouting to myself or at least to the empty area where myself used to be.

I read a quote in O Magazine yesterday. It was from an interview with 90s Rock/Pop Queen Sheryl Crow and she was talking about the adoption of her son.

'...When I let go of what I thought my life was supposed to look like, Wyatt found his way in.'

Whilst I'm happy that Sheryl had such a grand epiphany and her life is now everything she subconsciously knew it could be, I can't not wish that it was that easy for me. That I too could sit in my plush, eco-friendly house on the beach, paid for with 'All I wanna do is have some fun' money, rooting through Susan Jeffers and Dr Phil self help books and suddenly realising that once I let go of all my unrealistic expectations of my future, a child, who may or may not have a name that sounds suspiciously like an electrical appliance, will drop into my living room and we'll live happily ever after.
Of course in my case, baby Kenwood Food Processor would be a career in writing or film-making and not an actual baby (I dont know much about my future but I know a screaming baby does not feature.)

So please Katie/Hubbell/Oprah/Sheryl/Kenwood-send me a sign, let me know that the expectations (that I have now officially let go of!) are not merely dillusions.

Let there be light.