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Girls' Night Out! 對于一位年過四十的職業(yè)母親來說，該有多大的誘惑力？而眼下，就連抽點時間維系友情都尚感吃力的她只能說“No”。也許只有等到十五年后，她才能重圓這個夢。
By Kristin van Ogtrop
艾米蘭 選注
I don’t know about you, but this whole no-time-for-friends thing really took me by surprise. When you are very young, you have all the time in the world, which is unfortunate, because the hours move so slowly and you are perpetually bored. Everyone around you is an idiot, which makes the long days even longer. All the adults you know complain about not having enough time to get anything done, and you know that if they were just a bit more creative in their thinking or at the very least understood how to use the VCR[1], they would find that they had a lot more time than they thought. And you keep wondering: Dear God, when is life ever going to start?
Then you hit the age of 25 and you realize that your days are numbered, so to speak.[2] You begin to understand that time is no longer infinitely elastic, and that while you spend hours attending to one priority,[3] you are stealing those same hours from another. And why did nobody warn you that you would be spending 30 percent of your time on things that are really boring or difficult, like trying to find a rental apartment you can afford and a nice boy whom you can marry and stay married to forever? This is a terrible time of life, the mid-20s, because you still don’t know what real adulthood looks like. And since you probably don’t have children yet, you can devote entire afternoons to questions like “Who am I?” which rarely lead you down a pretty path.
My friend Silvia used to be a career counselor, and a few years back she taught our book group a little exercise, which was to draw our lives as pie charts.[4] We were sitting at dinner, and after the exercise everyone helped themselves to more wine and the conversation turned to genuinely important topics, like who among the women we know had gotten breast implants[5]. I, however, was unable to think about breasts because my pie chart was so disturbing. Why? Basically my life consisted of three segments: kids, work, and sleep.
Let’s leave the husband out[6] of it for a minute. And showering and watching silly people do silly things on YouTube, each of which gets a little bit of my time on any given day. Where was gardening, which is one of my favorite activities in the world? And reading, also one of the favorites? And what about friends?!?
That last one was the killer[7]. I may not spend enough time with my husband (no, we do not have “date nights,” as couples with great marriages are apparently supposed to), but at least I see him every day. And in the giant portion of my pie chart that is sleep, he’s right next to me. I can live with limiting my reading to bedtime, because falling asleep with the help of a book—which I do nearly every night, after about 10 minutes’ effort—seems better than falling asleep with the help of Ambien[8]. Even gardening is something I can neglect. As much as it pains me to watch the skimmia[9] in the front flower bed turn ever yellower because I mistakenly planted it in full sun, I know I can make a decision to do nothing about it and the only price I will pay is that of having to start over again.
Friends, however, are a different story. I can’t forget about friends for the next 15 years and then get a redemptive do-over once my youngest is off to college.[10] I can improve my garden down the road; maintaining friendships, on the other hand, requires consistent attention and even the occasional aggressive pruning[11]. I know this, and yet, with a few exceptions, friends appear to be about item No. 47 on my to-do list.
As it turns out, one important section missing from my Adulthood 101 manual explained how friendship would eventually become a choice—and that I would have to deliberately slice into other areas (buying science-project supplies for the kids, answering work e-mails, paying the occasional bill) to accommodate it.[12] Or I would be forced, in order to maintain friendships, to sacrifice the small amount of time that I have to myself (which is such a narrow sliver on my chart that it is statistically insignificant).[13]
At this stage of my life, working full-time and with three kids at home, I am surrounded by other people all day long. I think I have about 17 minutes of awake time per day when I’m not talking to a husband or a child, sitting in a meeting, or trying to explain for the 300th time why family dogs need to be walked, brushed, and fed. I read helpful magazine articles about scheduling “me time” so I can learn to “just be,” which sounds lovely—but then who makes dinner and calls the pediatrician while I’m off trying to “be”? [14]
And so I frequently have to choose between making time for a friend and making time for me. Usually I win. But is this healthy? And is it healthy to feel fretful[15] when the telephone dares to ring? I can’t tell you how often we hear the phone and before it gets to the second ring I am shouting to my kids, “Don’t answer it!” Terrible, terrible, terrible. I receive e-mails with the subject line “Girls’ Night Out!!!” and not only do I not think, Woo-hoo[16]!!! as I’m undoubtedly meant to, but I just want to crawl under my desk.
Actually I love people, at least as a concept. I have inherited my father’s tendency to engage in conversation with any stranger who crosses his path, because you never know what you might learn from the cute waiter or the lovely checkout girl. My parents, who still seem to know better than I do, even though I am now in my 40s, are no help here. They don’t seem to have this problem. They have tennis friends and work friends; golf friends and skiing friends; country-club and movie-club friends. They have friends they’ve known since college and law school as well as many others they’ve picked up along the way. It has always been this way. When I was a kid, it seemed as if their life was one long dinner party, with brief interruptions for child care and work. They have made wise investments in friendships over time and are reaping handsome dividends[17]. If I refuse to participate in girls’ nights out now, who will go to lunch with me when I’m 80?
Maybe no one. Or maybe one of the other nutty[18] moms around me who love their friends even if they see them only every 18th Tuesday.
This past Saturday night, I had a dinner with my friend Mary, who is a crazy working mom very much like me, except for the fact that she is a lawyer (much harder than being a magazine editor) and has a heroic number of children (seven!). As we sat at her kitchen counter, Mary shyly announced that most of her Saturday nights revolve around the 6 p.m. piano lesson that she takes with one of her daughters. She admitted this, then laughed. Her husband rolled his eyes. And I hatched[19] a plan.
When I turn 80, when the kids are finally out of the house and I’ve finally retired, and when I finally have more than 17 minutes to myself on any given day, I’m going to send Mary an e-mail. Subject line: “Girls’ Night Out!!!” Mary will understand why it has taken me so long to organize. And her reply will be Woo-hoo!!!
Vocabulary
1. VCR: =video cassette recorder，錄像機。
2. numbered: 有限的；so to speak: 可以這么說。
3. elastic: 靈活的，有彈性的；attend to: 處理；priority: 優(yōu)先考慮之事。
4. career counselor: 職業(yè)顧問；pie chart: 餅形圖，圓形分格統(tǒng)計圖表。
5. genuinely: 真正的；breast implant: 隆乳（術(shù)）。
6. leave out: 省略，刪去。
7. killer: 極難之事。
8. Ambien: 安比恩，一催眠藥物。
9. skimmia: 茵芋。
10. redemptive: 贖回的，用于補償?shù)模籨o-over: 重做，重來一遍。
11. prune: 修（剪）枝。
12. manual: 手冊，指南；deliberately: 故意地；accommodate: 給……提供方便。
13. sliver: 薄長條；statistically: 統(tǒng)計上。
14. 我閱讀的一些幫助性雜志文章提到安排“自我時間”，從而學會“聽之任之（讓一切保持現(xiàn)狀）”，但當我盡力去“聽之任之”時，誰來做晚飯和給兒科醫(yī)生打電話呢？
15. fretful: 煩躁的。
16. Woo-hoo: 表示非常開心或興奮的語氣詞。
17. reaping handsome dividends: 收獲不菲的紅利。
18. nutty: 狂熱的。
19. hatch: 策劃，醞釀。
（來源：英語學習雜志）
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