Last week was pretty big on a few fronts, not the least of which was that my baby bird finally got his drivers license. This was a big dealio for several reasons. Firstly … after two kids and 240 hours of supervised instruction, I no longer need to endure that white knuckle, tongue biting invisible brake hitting torture that inevitably ends in a screaming match and a migraine....

Last week I ‘delivered’ my eldest child to college in the US and this week my youngest got his drivers licence. I am officially as redundant as the white pages. Full of info that no one wants and desperately in need of reinvention. If I’m honest, I admit that I have been fantasising about this day for some time. But be careful what you wish for, because instead of popping the champers, doing nude cartwheels down the hallway and reveling in the serenity, I’m feeling decidedly unsettled, and a bit wobbly....

I am the first to admit that “doing nothing” is not my strong suit. I get bored easily and I like to feel perpetually productive. The closest I get to ‘nothing’ is watching TV while simultaneously ironing, talking on the phone and mentally planning my agenda, meals and to do list for the next 3 days. I’m also not a huge fan of “do nothing” holidays. After 24 hours of luxuriating around a pool I start tapping my fingers and annoying the bejesus out of those around me. I know it’s illogical, but other people doing nothing...

I do some of my best work in my mobile office (aka my car) … which also doubles as a mobile café and a mobile recycling bin. On my (obscenely) early morning trips to the rowing sheds (dressed in PJ’s and ugg boots) I often ponder life’s big questions … like, ‘what in gods name are all these people doing on the road so early’ or ‘why isn’t everyone else’s bins spilling over with rubbish like mine?’ It was on the way home from one such early morning outing that I had an epiphany of sorts. Dreaming...

Jealousy is a very ugly trait, but I think it can be excused under certain circumstances … like during the last school hols … as I froze my ass off while every other living creature seemed to be sunning themselves in Capri and Croatia. Seriously, if I had seen one more instagram post of the sun setting over the Adriatic I think I might “hashtag puke.” ...

As luck would have it, my 50th year also happens to coincide with my first year as a part time parent. Both kids will officially be adults. Both will be finished school and (in theory) less needy of my full time attention. As far as opportunities go … this is a ‘pigs with hens teeth flying past a blue moon’ once in a lifetime kind of opportunity and the perfect timing for my golden gap year....

I am, by my own admission, a slightly obsessive compulsive, anally retentive planner (what fun you say). I love dotting i’s and crossing t’s and I have an unhealthy obsession with spread sheeting. Oh wait … is that the death knell of my already dwindling social life I hear? I am not that cool … let’s just ‘wing it’ girl. Never have been. I love to feel organized. I love a list and the absence of a plan makes me feel decidedly unsettled, which probably goes some way towards explaining the growing sense of anxiety I’m feeling right now....

I have exactly two years to physically and mentally prepare for my own personal golden jubilee. When I reflect on Golden Jubilees, (even the term sounds antiquated and passé’) the only one I have any recollection of celebrating was that of my primary school (circa 1979). I recall we dressed up like extras from Little House on The Prairie and danced around a maypole … seemed logical at the time and goes to reinforce that 50 years ago (from any point in time) just falls into that nebulous period affectionately referred to as “the olden days.”...