Blogs By Women In Their 40s - Part 1

They write about things men in expensive designer suit talking on the phone in a downtown office don't want to read. Things high profile politicians, full-time suckers and hangers-on don't want to think about. They write about domestic things, about their children and dishes they cook on Sunday. Recipes and cakes. About a washing machine that has broken down, or the new fridge just delivered by Courts Mammoth. They don't write about issues those clowns in the parliament in their ill-fitting suits shouting themselves hoarse in the throat debating about things they know next to nothing of. In fact they are not bothered by things like the price of crude oil. They don't write about big issues. They touch on issues men consider remeh temeh. Stuff that don't count as far as the world is concerned. Stuff they do, day in, day out. Year in, year out. You've gotta be half crazy to be able to do this all your life until you are worn out, used up, wrinkled down to the bones, becoming no longer desirable, and therefore as good a reason as it gets for a divorce. I've never been a woman in my entire life to know a thing or two about the kinda stuff women in their 40s write in their blogs. Reading their blogs, however, is like being invited into their house to see for myself what they do, and to delve into their thoughts to know any better about what they do on sunny days, what they like to do on rainy days, or cloudy days, bad hair days, or why they don't want to speak to anyone on days when they are not themselves.

She could be a professional with a degree in Nuclear Science, a Magna Cum Laude, a high ranking senior officer with hundreds of men under her command, running around at the drop of a hat, ready to fulfil her every wish to earn her favorable appraisal for a promotion at the end of the year. She is a powerful person in the office with a mighty fountain pen that can determine the future of a company. You may even see her picture on the cover of a business magazine, being interviewed for her insights into the inner mechanism of a revolutionary marketing concept that can change the way a product gets into the top shelf of a hypermarket.

Or she could be a middle-level management officer with enough power, making good money to afford a holiday abroad for the family, or a foreign-made Multi Purpose Vehicle to ferry the kids to school, tuition classes, Taekwondo, ballet, swimming, piano and Qur'an classes.

Or she could be a secretary taking orders from a fussy pot who calls himself boss. An event manager, a sales promoter. An account executive at an international advertising agency. A dentist. Or a clerk in a shipping office. An army officer, a police constable, or an architect, an engineer, a teacher, a lecturer in a community college, a doctor, or a full-time housewife who has been retrenched because the company she used to work for decided to re-locate to some place cheaper. I read them daily. Keeping track of the up-dates.

(To be continued...)

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