Through a glass, darkly

So I had a thought the other day, because I get asked every 36 hours or so when I’m getting married:
The question of when you’re going to get married is sort of a cheerful inverse of the question “when’re you going to die?” If I have a terminal illness of some sort, or am going into a particularly dangerous area of the world, then yes, I may have a good idea of how much longer I have to live, and can give an intelligent answer to the “when’re you gonna die” question. Likewise, if I am dating someone seriously, then I may have an intelligent response ready for the “when’re you going to get married” query. (That does not mean that I’m going to give it to you, however). But if I’m not dating anyone, then asking when I’m going to get married is sort of like asking a perfectly healthy person when they’re going to die. I have no idea.
When God wills it, I suppose.


About irreparabiletempus

God have mercy on me, a sinner.
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2 Responses to Through a glass, darkly

  1. jadanzzy says:

    God wills that you make an effort to find your mate. =)

  2. David says:

    Wow. Every 36 hours? That’s like being the daughter of an Indian mother.

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