A young person I was talking with the other day told me she was having a quarter-life crisis (she is not quite 30). I asked what she meant. She said she was tired of all the responsibilities she had and wanted to move home and have her mom take care of her again – do her laundry, make her dinner, etc. I understood that this was just a passing whim of hers since her life basically is pretty sweet and I knew tomorrow would be a better day for her. But what I really felt like saying was, “Yes, dear, growing up sucks.”
Who doesn’t feel that way at times? I know I do, although mine is more of a post mid-life crisis, and moving back with my mom is no longer an option. Life does get boring and monotonous and laden with responsibilities, and I can understand how you would want to walk away and return to the coziness, warmth and responsibility-free home of your childhood. Understood.
My own life has taken some crazy twists and sharp turns and where I’m at is nowhere near where I dreamed I’d be way back in my quarter-life crisis years. I was supposed to be living in Topanga Canyon,California far away from the maddening crowd with my main squeeze Keith Carradine. He was supposed to be strumming his guitar and singing me sweet love songs as we sat sipping wine barefoot on our candlelit deck overlooking the lush landscape leading down to the Pacific Ocean. (deep breath) My fantasies, by the way, are excruciatingly vivid.
But instead of sipping wine with Keith, I sit here in the kitchen/office trying to figure out how to pay bills, how to get another job at an age when I should be thinking retirement, how to keep life interesting when nothing interesting is happening and how to stop feeling like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole. The only thing I can think of in answer to these quarter/mid/post-mid life crisis’s is to keep putting one foot in front of the other, one day at a time and keep moving forward and doing those daily yet vital chores one at a time until they’re done. That’s life. Fact.
Maybe tomorrow a miracle will happen to make it all worthwhile and wonderful and bring you more happiness than your heart can possibly hold. Warm and fuzzy usually works for me. Or you can dye your hair red and hope you’ll have more fun that way.
It will get better. At least I’ve been told so by those older and wiser than me. I recommend listening to awful cheesy music in times of weariness. Like Hall and Oates. You can’t be angry when listening to “Private Eyes.”
Good point. Well taken. I find ultimate cheese like Barry Manilow’s “Looks Like We Made It” really floats my boat.