The Impulse to Have a Mid-Life Crisis

 Last week at work during lunch, Skyler said, "Eva, you've lived a very interesting life!" Tanner heartily agreed. I was suspicious for a moment that they were teasing me, but they were actually sincere. I know it's hard to believe, based on how me-centric this blog is, but I really don't talk about myself all that much at work, so with the stories I have told, I have accidentally but successfully curated my life to sound like a series of grand adventures. 

Well, my life has been a series of grand adventures mixed in with the daily minutiae. I grew up in the generation before the Internet, and my parents hated television and wouldn't buy one until I was in my teens, so if I was bored, I had to find a way to entertain myself. As a person without a lot of money, I had to be creative. I cultivated interests and hobbies from early childhood and usually had some exciting project or other that I was working on at any given time. I was always eager (even if I was also nervous sometimes) to see what was going to happen next and what I was going to learn and feel and do and who I would meet and learn to love along the way. I expected adventures, and so I lived a life of adventure. In some ways, I haven't changed all that much from that younger version of myself. Adventures still happen.

I do understand the impulse to have a mid-life crisis, however. Being middle-aged is somewhat like being in your eighth month of pregnancy with your third child: you feel like you've always been this way, you can't remember ever not feeling this way, and you're pretty sure you'll stay this way for the rest of your life. Everything seems so frustratingly hard to accomplish, and sometimes just having to walk makes you want to cry. Your body hurts and is doing bewildering things, everyone around you constantly needs something from you, and you're so, so tired all the time. In addition, you find yourself becoming invisible to society at large. Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if everything is just going to be hard and tedious and stressful until the day you die. It would be very natural to want to reclaim some of that starry-eyed wonder at life you had when you were younger.

I remind myself that--for this moment only--I'm a tired, overweight, middle-aged woman. I'll get older. Maybe I'll get skinnier. I can definitely use my increasing invisibility to do whatever the heck I want without caring what other people think (#lifegoals). But I have a great relationship with my children and husband and family and some beloved friends and have acquired some wisdom I didn't have when I was younger. Whatever happens, I am grateful for this particular adventure. 

Me and Sian last Christmas. I'm so proud of the woman she has become.

One adventure this week is getting Husband tested for Covid. He's been pretty sick, and, of course, you don't just have the flu or a cold anymore and just stay home until you're feeling better. No, you have to get tested, and you're only a person allowed to interact with society once again if you test negative.  I did stock up on groceries in case this happened, so we should be good if we have to finish out the 10-day quarantine. I'm going to make Indian chicken curry tonight, just for fun.