Friday, 1 March 2013
Well, there it is. The mid life crisis has arrived. Snuck in, under the radar, largely unobserved until it jumped up and yelled ‘Up yours, sister!’ right in my face. There I was, happily trundling along, agreeing to this, happy with that, “yes dear, it’ll be an adventure!’ I said. “Why not? We’re a long time dead” I said. ‘J.F.D.I.’ I said.
More fool me.
Her name is uttered last thing at night and first thing in the morning. She has become the sole topic of conversation. She dines at our table, whistles in our bathroom, and, well, she, ahem, “hangs about” in the bedroom. The onslaught is complete; she’s moved right in, lock, stock and pretty rounded barrel of a bottom. And never mind her bottom, apparently, her “arches are delightfully curvaceous” and she has the “shiniest, silveriest, wide eyed look” you could imagine.
That’s not enough for her, however. Not content with merely stealing away those ‘penny for them?’ moments, every long stare into the middle distance becomes hers, every interaction, whether minor or highly significant is diverted to her cause. I suspect she is even invading dream space. Dare I ask? I dare not. Instead I determine to identify my advantages. They are these: Distraction, preoccupation and blinkered vision. What better time to gain agreement on those truly important issues, those previously impossible to pin down questions? Surely, the time is now. What about that new handbag? Can we get tickets for Bowie at the V&A? I think there must be some musicals to be seen…
Yes, for sure, there is a human cost to the mid life crisis. It’s my job to ensure a good, old fashioned, financial cost too.