Slightly predictable account of the slide from
success of a theatrical agent having a mid-life
crisis. Worth reading, though, for the wry
observations of modern life and relationships.
Oh dear, I'm not yet forty, and I seem to have
gone straight from adolescence into my mid-life
crisis without a pause for the prime of my life.
There's never been a bit where I felt, if not
exactly in control, then at least at ease. The
last two thousand years of much-publicised male
supremacy are meant, surely, to have rubbed off
on me somewhere along the way. Surely I should be
basking even. But it hasn't felt like that at all.
Blimey dimey no. Even now, I am aware how
difficult it is for me to admit that there are
problems. I am meant to solve problems, not bleed
them on to a page.