November 16: a trundler

Many years ago I knew a young woman. We went out on a date and that very evening she asked if I would marry her. I suppose she was desperate to sort out her future, put it in a box rather than having it float around indiscriminately. Some people are like that, I find. They are desperate to put all potential future events into a box that will define them, contain them. They will chat with somebody on Twitter or Hinge and be planning the future before they have even met in the flesh. Bucket lists seem to be part of the same tendancy. Fix in advance and through the edicts of social convention what you need to do in the future to define yourself neatly and to your advantage. Maybe I am by nature not much of a planner, so don’t end up getting married or bungee jumping off some high bridge in a developing country. Following these terms I will never get anything done. I am what you call a trundler. I just trundle on with my nose to the dirt. I think it’s better that way.


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