Is it really the end of October?

I want my money back. The year has raced by in a blur of kiddycare, work, writing and Mancunian rain and all of a sudden, I find myself sat in my car doing the school run in a billion layers of waterproof clothing and with the demisters on. Where did the Summer go? Where has 2010 gone? This was meant to be my big year: the year where I had my midlife crisis, decided what I wanted to do instead of fundraising, made it happen and then immediately started to rake in more money, grow thicker hair and have more nookie. I'm still waiting.

I realise there are only three of you following this including my husband. You won't be crying into your soup at the fact that I haven't written since July, will you? Nothing lost there. No. I feel like the invisible woman, so I don't expect anything different. Let me explain...

On Tuesday, I turned 39. It's my last year of being a thirty something and being the kind of moaning bastard that I am, I can't help wondering if my health and energy are going to take a steep nosedive from now onwards. I feel like shit. I look like shit. I had a brief sunrise between the ages of 35 and 38 where I lost enormous amounts of weight and did amazingly energetic things and now, suddenly and without warning, the sun has started to set on my thirties and I can only see menopause, continuing professional frustration and thinning hair on the horizon. And do you know what the worst thing is? I annoy myself. I have a voice in my head that says "stop moaning and grow a pair. You've got it good. You're just horrormoanal and tired."

So...perhaps next time I post I'll be all happy and celebratory. Perhaps something amazing will happen and I will get a novel published or win some money or a long lost relative will die and leave me all their money or I will hurt myself a bit at work and claim ludicrous amounts on the public liability insurance. But money's a quick buzz and not a long-term fix. I don't know about YOU miserable bastards but I'm looking for the sense of self-satisfaction too. I know my personal life is all I could ever want it to be but now the kids are getting a bit bigger, finally, what I do for a living is connected to my self-esteem and well-being. Having a humdrum job just to pay the bills just isn't enough any more. Getting older seems to make the realisation that I've settled for less in my career all these years even sharper and more painful.

Now I'm going to go and make a coffee and grow a pair...