I no longer care what others think of me . . .

THERE may not be a far future for me, but that means less to worry about. No point dwelling on whether I might get dementia or be unable to pay for my care.

I buy new clothes without a qualm. All that previous self-questioning has gone. Do I really need this? Will it make me look fat? Do I deserve this?

I operate on short-term planning and give in to immediate desires, which means good seats at the theatre — and who cares about parking tickets? To my mind, it seems a good use of the money I earn.

I used to want to make things better for everyone, but now I worry less about those I love. I haven’t the energy or the clarity of mind to try to help them when they’re unhappy or troubled. They’ll have to take care of themselves.

It’s liberating to feel less responsibility for others, less guilt for failing to do things in the right way. There’s also no point raging at the failings of friends and family. I try to think only about what’s best about them, because that makes me feel better.

These days, I have less ego, less need to talk or to win an argument. If others are boring on about something, I let them, and preserve my energy.

I worry less about what other people think of me. And I couldn’t care less about never getting that wraparound extension to expand our kitchen into something more bourgeois.