I’ve been tagged in a meme by @babberblog. I’ve never been tagged in a meme before! Way-hey!* Best of all, it’s to do with writing a list of wants – and I’ve got loads of them! Want, want, want, that’s me. So I might as well get started:
In a lefty feministy sorta way. I’d have to leave someone else to make all the finer decisions about this because I am, on a personal level, a selfish sod. But globally, I really believe in fairness. Hey, it’s a start.
And not because I’ve been listening to too much Ace of Base (can one ever?). It’s because having children is the best thing I’ve ever done and my children are bloody brilliant. Although clearly there’s a risk that another child mightn’t be as good. I worry I might push my luck and end up with a right devil child for Number 3, so at the moment I’m hedging my bets. We can’t afford a third child but I’d quite like an “accident”, which is why my partner keeps “mysteriously” finding staples in the pockets where he keeps his condoms… <should I have just written that?>
Well, obviously. I have small kids. I never have enough sleep. I could go to bed earlier but once they’re in bed I always want to do stuff, like write on this blog. I just want endless, endless time, plus sleep. Although both of these things sound quite boring, really (I have quite cool dreams, though. Apart from at the moment, when I’m so sleep-deprived I actually dream about being asleep).
To be immortal, kind of
I’m not religious. I panic about running out of time, and I panic about how everything gets more and more rubbish the older you get, as your body deteriorates and all your mates die. Yeah, I’m a barrel of laughs when it comes to these deep, philosophical issues. So I’d quite like not to die but also not to get old or infirm, either. To stop right now, really (not that I’m a perfect specimen of health, but I’d do). Also, all my friends and family and everyone I like shouldn’t get old or infirm, either. Everyone else can sod off as usual, though, since I don’t want them using up the Earth’s precious resources even more quickly than me and my loved ones will (see above comments regarding conflict between desire for fairness and me being a selfish sod).
Some people have ethical issues with having cleaners. Some people are particularly outraged at the idea of self-declared feminists having cleaners. Me, I already pay loads of people, indirectly, to do things I don’t want to do (remove rubbish, treat sewerage etc), plus I have a house that is, cleanliness-wise, a total disgrace. So yeah, I totally want a cleaner. Plus a tidier to get the house ready for when the cleaner arrives.
To write another book
Because I always wanted to write a book. I used to want to be a posh fiction writer until I realized I’m crap at writing fiction (I did once come second in an online short story contest, but I’d done a first-person narrative about a drunkard, i.e. it wasn’t that fictional, given where I was at the time). Then I finally got my thesis published, in book form, and that was nice, but now I want to do more books. And more books that are more me. Basically, I dream of writing ranty “set the world to rights” books of the kind Chris Moyles and Jeremy Clarkson churn out. I’d be the lefty feminist Jeremy Clarkson, no research, often incoherent, but really really ranty. I’d fucking love that. Do you think there’s a market for it?
For my brother not to be ill
I mean, I’d rather no one was ill (apart from hypochondriacs, since they might enjoy it). But for my brother in particular, I’d want more possibilities and choices. Because actually, most of the things I grumble about – work, kids, partner – are things he’s never had. He should get to grumble about them, too!
Not to have an eating disorder
Because I’ve had one, in some form or another, for 25 years and it’s a bit rubbish, really. This is, I suppose, the “want” about which I would appear to have the most control. Alas, most days it doesn’t feel like that. Most days I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about food and weight (funnily enough, the less I’m thinking about it, the more I blog about these issues – perhaps when I’m “in the thick of it” I’m not confident enough to mention it). But I am totally aware that when I’m on my deathbed – unless I am immortal, obvs – I will regret all this stupid time wasted on changing the shape of my body, repeatedly, for no reason at all.
Andy off CBeebies
I’m exactly what Andy needs. He doesn’t yet realise that what he needs is a selfish, ranty, broody, sleep-deprived feminist with a chronic eating disorder, but one day he will. And think of the “wild adventures” we’ll have then!
Not to have to tag anyone in a meme
Because people might get cross with me. It won’t matter when I’m the lefty feminist Jeremy Clarkson – I’ll just sneer at the haters – but right this minute I’m still “mild-mannered mum of two who works in publishing”. And I don’t want to annoy everyone more than I already do. So basically, please could everyone reading this considered themselves tagged or not tagged – whichever you’d prefer or indeed want. Is that allowed?
* Or “woojay!” – I think that’s babberblog for “way-hey!”