My biological clock

I think that my biological clock is my business.  I don’t understand people.

Today one of my neighbors randomly knocked on my door looking for conversation.  She’s a nice woman.  The topic of my birthday came up, and when she found out how old I am (34) she asked if I was single, if I was dating.  Then she told me, “Your biological clock is ticking.  You need to get moving.”

Wow.  All I could do was chuckly uncomfortably.

You see, I know that my clock is ticking.  I know that life is passing me by.  But I also know that I’d rather my biological clock expire–you know, the window for having children–than have a baby for the sake of having a baby.  Or get married for the sake of not being alone.

I know too many people who are married and are in marriages they want nothing more than to be rid of.  I may be in my mid-thirties and desire to be married one day, but I’d prefer to die single than be in a marriage that is unhappy.

I feel like this is some sort of manifesto that I continually have to verbalize.

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