9 December 2015, 11 am
I meet up with an old friend, who is also a patent attorneyette. When I say “old”, I mean only that we both date back to the time when women were allowed to be patent attorneys but not supposed to be good at it. We talk about how lucky we are still to be young at heart and not to have succumbed to mid-life crises. In my case, of course, the only way I have avoided having a mid-life crisis is by calling it Voluntary Work instead. She has avoided it by finding a wonderful new boyfriend. I think she is better at this than me. She asks me how I am getting on being President. I say 6 months, 19 days, 11 hours. I do not tell her about the leadership book. When we are both tired of being young at heart, I go off to do some Christmas shopping. This is almost stressful enough to constitute a mid-life crisis in itself. I cannot find any suitable Christmas presents, so I buy a new dress instead. The dress is designed for someone who is young at heart but not at waist height. It is so bag-shaped that it attracts a 5p levy. It is, in other words, perfect for covering up the bits of me that are enjoying their own separate mid-life crises, in regions they are not strictly supposed to occupy, thanks to all the gin and chocolate I consume when I’m busy doing Voluntary Work. This dress, I think, will do nicely for the grand ITMA Christmas lunch on Friday. When I asked the ITMA President recently, he told me the dress code was fancy dress. But this is the same man who told me we could hold a Presidential Summit in a wine bar last week, so I am not sure whether he is serious. Either way, I will be attending dressed as a navy blue, mid-life carrier bag.
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