If you’re in your 30s, a woman and unmarried, my advice to you is RUN! Seriously it’s OK to run from the problems this status will bring you. Trust me no matter what smart ass comeback you have to the well meaning advice you’ll be given will not erase the patriarchal mindset ingrained in people. Sarcasm is a tool that will be rendered blunt when faced with “It’s your turn next” at weddings. You have no idea the number of times I’ve wanted to say that to these oldies at funerals! So ya…Just run!

Being unmarried post 30 is a natural calamity in this great nation of ours along the lines of earthquakes, floods and Saturday night parties in my house. Ask my neighbors, they think I must have fornicated with the entire telephone directory. Which is of course reason enough to ring my doorbell at night, demanding I keep the volume down. Or perhaps they wanted a glimpse of the life they traded in for holy matrimony. A sliver of the life they could have had instead of the many EMIs they seem to have as bed partners. I’m willing to give them the benefit of a doubt. On an aside, I think EMIs are the greatest form of birth control.

But I digress. I’ve been asked to settle down. What exactly does that mean? Does it mean I must make do with the first socially inept, hygiene challenged, ear hair sprouting male specimen I bump into? Does it mean that my ovaries have already dried and shriveled which is why I must think of immediately spawning to save what’s left of them?

Are you single? Are you hopelessly lonely? You must be! Why don’t you try a whiff of ‘Settle Down’? A single dab on the wrists and Mr Dysfunctional will be all yours. ‘Settle Down’ -it reeks of second hand toilet deodorant, because I couldn’t afford a limited edition Acqua de Homme.

So no, I will not settle down. I may settle in but I will not settle down. So step aside while I listen to Settle Down on ‘are you nuts’ volume. Cause Gwen Stefani quite simply, rocks.