It’s all fun and games until someone’s middle aged

Some of you know I’ve recently ditched a perfectly good stable career to try to break into TV and film and you may be wondering how that whole thing’s going. Well, it’s been a while now, and I think I can say with confidence that I’m having a midlife crisis.

I did what anyone does when a crisis of any kind – existential, midlife, laundry – hits, I googled “Am I having a (fill in the blank) crisis?” and discovered that yes, I almost certainly am. But I also discovered that so is basically every other person I know. According to the internet, signs of a contemporary midlife crisis include: dyeing your grey, trying to get more exercise, taking vitamins, giving to charity, learning an instrument, and over-indulging in alcohol resulting in longer/worse hangovers. That completely describes me, except for the bit about hangovers, and that’s just pure genetics; (it’s like the women in my family have two livers or something. A true gift).

So, the good news is, having a contemporary midlife crisis (otherwise known as hitting your 40s and making an effort to get enough fruits and veggies) isn’t a problem. The bad news is, my personal midlife crisis seems to be more of a period piece. I quit my job, ditched the kids in another city and moved into a tiny condo in a real swinging new neighbourhood. I had a cocktail before I left the office the other day. And it was a whisky sour. It’s not so much I’m trying to recapture my past as I am trying to recapture the past. Except for the relentless womanizing, I think I might be turning into Don Draper, circa 1965.

And you know what? It’s been fantastic. I mean, a mid-afternoon whisky sour with colleagues in the office kitchen? Come on! That shit’s glorious.

But I have to tell you: it’s also been brutally hard.

I miss my kids like I’d miss my hands if I left them behind. A new job in a new industry is great, of course, but it’s also completely overwhelming. I miss feeling competent at work. On good days, I am excited to learn. On bad days – and there have been many – I am consumed by self-doubt and a longing for the familiar. I have been certain of my failure. I have cried.

So, what’s a puffy, anxious, middle aged girl-Don-Drapper to do? Well, I’m trying to eat better, and get more – oh wait. We covered that. Never mind.

I could give up. I tried that, briefly, the other day. But I still need to make an actual living, so that didn’t work out. I figure I’ll just keep going. Not sure where, but forward movement, no stopping. Like a tired, middle-aged shark doing what I have to do.

Whiskey sour, anyone?


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7 responses to “It’s all fun and games until someone’s middle aged

  1. Love it!!!!

    We should commiserate!

    Sent from my iPhone


    Liked by 1 person

  2. Peter Burton

    Hey Sandra, great piece. I assume that you are in Vancouver. If so, let’s go for a whisky at some point. You can have the sour.


  3. I love the title, Sandra. You’re right it seems like everyone that I know is going through the same symptoms. The best thing to do is live our passions, dump the negativity at the door, and get moving on that plan of action. I’m looking forward to hearing about your new journey.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. mary

    Lol. You are a fantastic writer. All the best on your new adventure!!


  5. Jeff Aitken

    I recently had the pleasure of attending an open bar wedding where they featured the bride’s favourite drink – bourbon sours. I never had the pleasure of trying one before. All six that I had were fantastic! I’ll have to try a whisky one next. Thanks, Sandra!


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