Every Woman’s Reward: Becoming That Mean Old Lady
I’ll admit it. As the years go by, I seem to be getting meaner. If I gave a damn, this would be a troubling development. I was born on March 20, the vernal equinox, the first day of spring when everything’s coming up daisies. As a Pisces, I spent most of my life a brooding but compassionate dreamer, friend of the underdog, empathic helper. But March 20 is also on the cusp of Aries, the bullheaded, competitive, pull-no-punches sign. That makes me an astrological Dr. Jekyll, Ms. Hyde. So, I’m not surprised that in my second act, I’ve gone from friendly fish to full-tilt ram. What worries me is that my prickliness may not be written in the stars so much as imprinted on my genes. I don’t aspire to be an old shrew, but when I look at some of the women in my family, I wonder if it can be avoided. I’m far more prone to hang up on someone, claim space for myself, cut off ridiculous prattle, even threaten court action when …