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Monday, July 1, 2019

I Bypassed My Mid-Life Crisis And Decided To Wallow In Resignation Instead



I got hit by a deer three weeks ago.

Yep, you read that right. I saw her crossing the road ahead of me, slowed to allow her to cross, then I sped up again and she did a complete about-face and ran right at me. This resulted the car being in the shop for two weeks. I have rental car coverage on my insurance, but they were out of economy cars, so they upgraded  me to a really nice SUV with all the bells and whistles. The dashboard looked like the cockpit of a spaceship. It drove like a dream. Holy cow was it beautiful.

It was torture.

It goes without saying that I'll likely never own a car that nice. My son was in love, too. "Why don't we just sell the old car?" He asked. "Then we'll buy this car instead."

I tried to explain that selling an eleven year old stick shift with 130,000 miles will not equate to $27,000 for a new car like this one. David's solution? "Use your credit card."

Right.

Along with that, my friends are getting older (me too, of course). Many of them are eyeing retirement, posting countdowns, or even going ahead and retiring early.

And of course, I know that retirement is a pipedream when you came out of your divorce penniless, with primary custody of a special needs child.

That special needs child just spent the first two weeks of summer break entirely at his father's house. He went for Dad's weekend, and didn't want to come home. "Dad has a nicer house," he told me frankly. "And we go out to eat a lot."

Anna has turned eighteen, and moved in with a friend. She's working full-time until college starts, and hasn't done much more than text over these last few weeks. She's loving being out on her own. I'm glad for her. But I miss my girl.

My latest book is in limbo. My agent sent it to sixteen editors, and half have written back to say the same thing: loooove the book, but we're not looking for this sort of book. So I'm painstakingly writing another book while this one languishes.

So I've been wallowing for a few weeks. Trying to decide who I even am anymore. What I can honestly hope to do with myself these days. I feel sort of helpless and occasionally hopeless, and honestly--I've never felt that way before in my life.

I decided to shut off the computer, read some books, get some sleep, and watch some good movies. It helped. Learning to pace myself, and administer self-care is a new thing for me, but it's a necessary and good thing now.

All part of redefining and moving forward. I promise now we can return to pictures of toilets and bizarre news articles.

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