The Mathematical Mystery of the Mid-Life Crisis

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!!!

Frittering - Er, Make That Twittering Your Days Away...

To best understand where I'm coming from in this post, I highly recommend reading "Techno Twit and the Digital Suicide Attempt" posted in April of 2008 (It'll help - well, maybe :o) I really couldn't say why I did it; I shouldn't have (really) but I did. I signed up for Twitter. Why? I dunno - temporary insanity perhaps? Personally, I think the umpteen blogs, communities, cliques, groups, promotional sites, advertising sites, retail sites, networking sites, centers, albums, (yadda yadda yadda) I belong to should be more than enough to do already. AND let us not forget our very own twenty something page website (click here to go see it) I so stupidly opted to do FROM SCRATCH (to save money that we did not have) and now MAINTAIN (to save more money that we still don't have) for our not-for-profit farm. Attempting to promote the shops and our site, I signed up for something that looked helpful only to find there was another something to sign up for that came after it. It got to the point that I had to start jotting them down on a handydandy 3x5 index card to keep them all straight, then had to transfer it all to the front of a 4x6 index card when I ran out of room. Do I need to follow up with obvious? I am, of course, now on the back of that 4x6 index card and eyeballing some notebook paper (as said 4x6 is almost full on both sides :oP

I gotta wonder, though, about this latest craze: Twitter. The first thing you're asked upon joining is, "What are you doing right now?" Of course me being me said, "I'm typing this stupid sentence on Twitter..." Or words to that effect, anyway. It's a little on the voyeuristic side of life, isn't it? Why do you care what I am doing right now? Are you that bored? Why do I want to know what you are doing right now? What do I care? PLUS; if you want to be obnoxiously pickyabout it (and apparently I do), whatever I say I'm doing "right now" on Twitter can't be what I'm doing "right now" because "right now" the only thing I'm doing is typing on Twitter. So, now that I belong to this ridiculous group, does that make me an "official" Twit? When I type what I am doing now (but am no longer doing, about which you should not care) do I then become a Twitter-er?

I will very likely leave this site to go to that site to say what I am doing now (but am no longer; about which you probably will not care). Other than creating an immediate need for Tylenol, is there a point to this post? I seriously doubt it, but you know what? I don't care :o)