I was watching my favorite program about four supremely awesome woman in New York. You know the cult-hit-oddly-feminist show that has the girl with the wild hair? Yeah, that one. My roomy and I love that show and like watching it over home cooked pasta and store bought banana pudding (yumm!).
It was the show where the protagonist turns 35. The story goes that she turns 35, doesn’t want to celebrate, gets persuaded by her best friends, tediously dresses up and goes anyway, and has no one show up (all ten of them). This blog isn’t about the show. It’s about what the protagonist says about the number 35. She says that at 35 she has no guy, no security and is alone.
That made me think. How many times have we let numerics sum up our lives?
200: In lbs. Heavy. Obese. Body builder. Massive.
5’7: In Feet. Tall (But not too tall) for a woman. Short (but not too short) for a man.
3:00: PM. Most of the day over. AM. Early. Quiet. Meditation. Insomnia.
12: PM. Party’s just begun.
20: In years. Can’t drink. Old enough to make life decisions. Young enough to evade responsibility.
45: In years. Family. Kids. Security. Questions. Crisis.
100: In Years. Century. Good genes. Spiritual. Answers.
38: In degrees centigrade. What? (For Americans) Blood temperature. (For the rest of the world)
254/10: End of an epic ODI in cricket.
9: Yards. Victory. Completion.
1,000,000: In Dollars. Security. Possibility. Dream.
186: In Carats. Kohinoor. Bling. Status. Vanity.
100: Miles/hr. Speed. Ticket. Police.
150: In Years. Bacardi. Ford. Vampire.
And the list goes on…
When was the last time you summed-up yourself, someone else or life itself in a number? Is it worth it?