I have recently noticed a certain dissatisfaction about my life insinuate itself into my thoughts. Perhaps it is only the influence of this extremely long period of miserable weather on my vacillating moods or, possibly it is something more serious and requiring some effort to eradicate.
The greatest disadvantage with my situation is the amount of time I am obliged to commit to meeting madame’s needs and the subsequent restriction of the time available to manage my personal life. To put things into perspective I must honestly admit that my job is neither stressful nor exceptionally tiring, just involving ridiculously long hours of presence.
With only two evenings a week and a few hours each afternoon to myself it seems that I am letting my life stagnate, yet incapable to find the time to do anything worthwhile. Fitting in trips to the cinema becomes a major organisational obstacle, especially if there is more than one film that I want to see in one week.
I am too addicted to lazing around at home doing nothing, but now having to sacrifice those unproductive but pleasurable moments in order to fit in all the essentials.
Obviously at my age I am not at all willing to change jobs in order to reap more time to myself nor willing to make great efforts to overcome the problem. So if this is the case is the problem really that important.
A great advantage to my situation is that madame is absent for long periods quite frequently during the year and thus I do catch up on having a life to myself. Perhaps that is in fact the reason for my present sentiments as she has cancelled her holidays due to the work in progress here at the villa. Possibly I have lost the ability to work continually during three whole months having adapted my life around her frequent absences.
Working for a family really isn’t a job at all but rather a way of life.
On a lighter note I recently had my first experience of being asked if I wanted a reduced entry for senior citizens. At my age it was to be expected and I found it rather amusing as it was said with such honesty and evident kindness. Much more appreciated than those “oh you don’t look 60yrs old”. I am old so does it really make a difference if I look 50 or 60? Does anyone look different at those ages?
Cheap cinema entries here I come.