So, I went to Cambridge for the weekend, and now I am all out of sorts.
One of my 'mummy' books told me that, whilst it is great to go back to your old ways once in a while, you can expect to find it all a bit shallow and meaningless in comparison to your new family life. Am I a terrible wife and mother because I had an amazing time, and really wish there could be a bit more of the same around here?
If a day in my old life had been mooching round some shitty shopping centre, and going out to a bar to get pissed, then yes, I see the problem. But the shops in Cambridge are lovely and the pubs are gorgeous and civilised, even on a Saturday night. My favourite chapel is there, where we heard music sung by one of the best choirs in the world, who were just sublime. We browsed in fantastic bookshops, where I was able to buy books about Logic and Postmodernism, as opposed to here, where it's all Jodie Marsh or Diets For People Who Can't Leave Chips Alone, But Don't Get Why They're A Bit Fat.
We also paid a visit to our real old life, on the other side of Reality Checkpoint and got all nostalgic over the lovely, quirky little independent shops that characterise Mill Road. And everywhere we looked, there were motivated people, doing real activities, not just dragging themselves round the shops looking for stuff to buy out of boredom.
And we laughed out loud when we saw this shop front along the main tourist drag. It's a ladies sportswear shop, in case you were wondering....
I think the only logical conclusion to come to is that unless you happen to be one of the very few people who have it all in life, or genuinely want very little, there are always going to be gaps that you still want to fill. I am hugely grateful that for me, those gaps are simply cultural. I would far rather have it that way round than be able to go to King's College Chapel every evening, but go home on my own to an empty house, or have to haul arse every day to the kind of job that nearly drove me to insanity back in 1997.
I'll just have to hope that SweatyBetty decides that she does want to do her theological training in Cambridge after all. I'll be buying a comfy airbed and a big rucksack, and she'll never see the back of me. And if that doesn't send her scuttling to Oxford or Durham, then nothing will!
