I’ve written this before, but the forties must be the loneliest time of life to be single and childless.
Hints of this future state begin appearing in one’s thirties, as friends pair off and procreate; that’s a common point for baby panic to set in.
But I am here to say that the forties are when one can feel truly on one’s own. This move has hammered that home to me. My friends here have children or partners (or both), and they are all working, so I talk to and/or see them once every few weeks. I’m sure they could help out in small ways, but overall, I’m on my own.
Ditto with my friends in L.A.; even the ones who are childless and single are scattered too far and wide to easily assist.
The thing I miss most, outside of actual physical assistance, is having someone I can vent to about the stress I am under trying to pull off this move and get started on the job in one month’s time. It’s brought me to my knees again, and having an ear would certainly help.