I won’t have a new husband by Friday

Have A New Husband By Friday is the book I find next to my work computer when I walk in.

Nudge-nudge, wink-wink, the colleague who left it laughs.

But it’s no laughing matter – for me in any case – as I realise New York Times best-selling author Dr Kevin Leman gives me just five days to find him.

Deadlines are my bread and butter and I’m so up to it. But must I start on a Monday, Doctor?

Isn’t a Saturday night but the best time? Shaved legs… Wonderbra… a bit of wine… Okay, some food then…

But what do I, without a PhD in marriage and men, know? I do know your promise won’t work on this tough cookie: “This is the miracle turnaround you’re longing for. I guarantee it.”

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I do know why, too. Men and marriage have no guarantee. And I know one thing like njannies kopela: the man in my life does not have to change one iota.

I chose you, warts and all. You’re mine… Not that I’m knocking your wise words penned in 2009. Life lessons, after all, don’t have a sellby date.

But I wonder more about a hospice nurse telling the world about the dying’s regrets; those souls whose hands she had to hold because the family just can’t handle death.

Yeah, yeah. I get the “I didn’t live enough for myself”. Even the “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me”.

Even more so the “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard and spent more time with my family”. And “I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends”.

But not one said: “I had this friend, you know. I wish he was a friend with benefits…” Or, “I wish I knew the world was filled with beautiful men – and it passed me by.”

Then again, the nurse hasn’t interviewed me – yet. But that would be my one true regret: that I was – and still am – surrounded by bright, beautiful, beefy souls and didn’t recognise them.

A woman can spin her web, Dr Leman, we know. But we also know that the older we get, the silk in our arsenal becomes like our puppet mouths and flappy upper arms: no form or substance.

I suppose I won’t have a new husband by Friday. Or any time soon.

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