Being Single

You know you have to worry about being single at 35 when one of your year 3 students seemed to be more alarmed than you that you are single at age 35. It does not help matters when a host of good-intentioned colleagues, one in particular who shall remain nameless, keep pestering you about the same issue, conjuring up permutations of possible matches with presumably available female teachers.

It gets kind of embarassing considering that little is known about the factual availability of those potential suitors, or for that matter, why in the world they would consider me a desirable candidate for their husband. I myself find it hard to recall any compelling trait that would justify anyone marrying me. Should that happen anytime before I die, it would be by the Grace of God indeed.

So I am fairly resigned to be single for the rest of my hopefully short life. Don't get me wrong, I am not actively seeking death. I would like to live my life purposely and meaningfully and depart as soon as the work set out for me here is done. Hopefully that wont entail me hanging around too long. Eternal rest sounds like a good thing.

Now I am becoming morbid. I guess that comes with ageing and waking up realising that there is very little one can do about it. No amount of lyposuction or botok injection can reverse what is inevitable. I guess what's important now is to live the remaining portion of my life with a little dignity and being satisfied with it.

Everything else is vanity.