“You gotta have goals, Yvette,” I whispered to myself as I was climbing the ladder to nowhere at the gym today. I hate the stair stepper. If there was a fire, I hope the stepper burns first. I don’t know who thought of that torture device, but they must have been pretty sad when they designed it. Probably thought: “Let’s make something that will bring agony and pain to the person who ventures on it. My day is pretty shit, I am going to make sure everybody has a shit day.” Then he designed the stepper. Must have also been a man because no woman would add to life’s misery in such a drawn-out and prolonged manner. We do things quickly, quick. Girls don’t have the time to play around with drawn-out torture devices. If we want you dead, we will do it quickly.
I digress, I was talking about goals and then the stepper set me alight. Enough.
In January 2024, I turn 60. Yes, the big SIX OHHHH. I make it sound like an orgasm, but really it’s not. Everything is faulty, flapping, sagging, and giving in. Where I used to bounce, I now roll. I have to roll out of bed and roll into bed. The highlight of my day is going to sleep at night, and if I can have a little nap in the afternoon, my day has been made. How ridiculous?
I have been wondering how I can mark this year of being 60. At first, I thought I would diet and lose 20 kg. That’s not going well for me at the moment. I am busy baking a Christmas cake, and the house is full of Christmas flavor. It’s not going to happen. 20 kg is the same as climbing Everest. I have to at least make the goals fair and achievable.
I have 12 months to achieve this goal starting 8 January 2024 and it has got to mean something. Not like the stair stepper in the gym where you climb and climb and there is no end.
In 2014 I turned 50 and started 50 Shades of Spay.
In 2004 I turned 40 and ran 21 km in the Two Oceans Marathon. ( don’t get excited… I finished last. The emphasis here is in the word FINISHED.)
In 1994., I turned 30 ..and for the love of me I can’t remember what momentous thing I did… see that’s why you have to do something special. Focus Yvette!
1984 I turned 20, got my teacher’s qualification. Not something I will repeat but like my father said:” Get something behind your name”. Fat lot that helped me…
So, what to do with my 60… I think I am going to give myself a year to learn Setswana. I have been playing around, not committing to learning 10 vocabulary words a day, and I also quit classes. I would love to speak an African language fluently without making a fool of myself. I am going to put my shoulder to the wheel and commit to mastering the art of speaking Setswana. I want to be like Renier Swarts who did the commentary for the rugby in English, Afrikaans, and Setswana. I don’t know if this is true but apparently the chances of getting Alzheimers is slim if you are learning an extra language. I started classes a year ago because I was scared of loosing my faculties but let it dwindle until it became nothing. I remember a few phrases and words but nothing spectacular.
Putting my limited knowledge to work I once asked a man to eat his dog instead of asking him if he wanted food for his dog. He never answered me but hurried away in the opposite direction, taking his dog with him. I have never seen him again. He probably told all the people in the area to steer clear of the woman living at 176. She is a little crazy. All I can say to that is “Amen”. His behaviour was so odd that I asked my friend ( who speaks the language fluently) what I said wrong and she crawled around the floor for 5 minutes laughing herself into a stupor. I am going to sort this problem out in 2024.
We’ve got to have goals. I am going to be fluent in a third language by the time I turn 61, if I make it… Every day is a challenge; setting a goal will help me through it. Now, for this bloody stair stepper… the goal is 30 minutes at level 11. The pain is excruciating. My goal is to make it out of the gym while I can still feel my legs. Then, I am going to eat a chocolate. A big one.
The end.