Sunday, November 16, 2008
Am I the only person to question this??
I have too many thoughts; I just can't seem to HELP it. In addition to having too many thoughts, I wonder about too many things...including the ever popular "Mid-Life Crisis". I'm pretty sure it's a hoax, although I couldn't say precisely who perpetrated it initially (well, outside of the obvious - it has "Guy Thing" written all over it :o)
Personally, I think it's all about Denial (and I don't mean that river in Egypt). How else could people justify completely ridiculous and often irresponsible behavior when they are supposed to be old enough to know better? My husband always used to tease me that when I hit 40 he was going to trade me in on a newer model. Living in the south, these [highly delusional] plans morphed into thoughts and comments about doing a "twofer" (that's Southernese for a two-for-one deal, by the way). He thought it would be a grand plan to cash in his "old" 40 for two "new" 20's. Of course I felt obligated to point out that his pacemaker probably couldn't handle it (he doesn't actually have one but he IS, after all, several years older than I...)
Anyway, somewhere along the line it occurred to me that this thing known as the "Mid-Life Crisis" is an absolute mathematical impossibility. Think about it: in order to have a crisis in the MIDDLE of something, don't you have to know when the END is?? How can you possibly figure out where the middle is without prior knowledge of the end? I'll admit that the left side of my brain IS sadly lacking, but even I know there is something not quite right with this equation.
Maybe it was the cancer diagnosis at age 40 that prompted this line of thinking. The thought that if I didn't make it the full 5 years out (to the ripe old age of 45) it would mean I should have already HAD my midlife crisis at the age of 22. So did I miss it? Can I reschedule?
I think I'm going to have a mid-life crisis; they sound like fun. Maybe I'll just declare myself a late bloomer, go Nike, and "Just Do It". Yep, that's what I'm going to do, so I suppose I'd best get to it. I wonder how my husband would feel about a Harley Hog this Christmas. You know, come to think of it, he hasn't had HIS crisis either. Guess we might just end up with that twofer after all...
To read the other sections contained in my Squidoo lens ('cause yep, there's more :o) visit 3, 2, 1....AARRGH!!!