Querida Clara: Issue 12
Issue 12, Volume 111
Sometimes I feel like there’s no purpose of life and I’m just living one day after another. I feel like there’s nothing motivating me to move forward, and it kind of makes me stop and wonder if all of this is really worth it. I guess I’d like advice on how to address situations like this, and what exactly the purpose of it all is.
You are a pensive soul. It is a sage thing to wonder—why does anybody bother waking up and putting on deodorant? And why do it again the next day? Beats me. But living life is like writing this sentence. One thing follows another. I will write the next word and do the next thing. Who knows what I might write next? DOUBLET! STUFFED SHEEP! PINNACLE SOUNDS AND ZOUNDS! Anything could happen, and I think that life is the same way. That is the marvel of it. Unexpected, joyful things like “DOUBLET” tend to interject themselves.
In a way, though, isn’t it good that nobody really knows Life’s Hulking Meaning for certain? If people did, they wouldn’t have to keep living to figure it out.
My mother believes that I'm hiding a secret boyfriend from her. It's flattering that she believes in my capability for romance, but the interrogations are getting old. Maybe I just like buying flowers for myself. How do I prove a negative and finally convince her that I'm extremely single?
—Cadence Li, Junior
Cadence, it is time to set your man free. It is not subtle, this whole hide-him-under-the-bed thing. Let him see the sun. I find that when you Get a Man, it’s best to just let the state of your relationship hang out in the open with the family. For instance, when I got serious with my first husband, I had him move into the bathroom between my parents’ room and mine. At first, it was jarring for my parents (my husband sleeps on the shower floor), but in time they got used to it. Now, when one of us needs to use the toilet and my husband is still sleeping, no problem, we just go right in and hubby doesn’t notice a thing.
But in the event that it really is as you say and this man is “imaginary,” here’s some advice: do not fight your mother’s idea that you have an imaginary man. Embrace it. Embrace him, and all that your mother thinks he does for you. Dote on yourself. Take the flowers to an extreme. Write yourself letters that begin “CADENCE, MY LOVE,” and leave them in indiscreet places. Your mother will in time see that this is a man who truly loves you. She will also see that this man’s handwriting is remarkably similar to yours.