Certifiably Nuts

I am, by my own admission, a slightly obsessive compulsive, anally retentive planner (what fun you say). I love dotting i’s and crossing t’s and I have an unhealthy obsession with spread sheeting. Oh wait … is that the death knell of my already dwindling social life I hear? I am not that cool … let’s just ‘wing it’ girl. I never have been. I love to feel organized. I love a list and the absence of a plan makes me feel decidedly unsettled, which probably goes some way towards explaining the growing sense of anxiety I’m feeling right now. In just under two years (730 sleeps to be exact), I will turn 50 and I have no clue what I’m going to do for the next half a century.

Holy shit. How did I let this happen? It’s not like this should come as any surprise and yet as absurd as it sounds … it does. The only plausible explanation for my overlooking the second century of my life is early onset Alzheimer’s … or unwitting denial. Neither option is ideal. I’m no longer married and my full time parenting days will soon be behind me. For the first time in forever, I am literally free to do whatever I want which is both exciting and terrifying in equal measure because the truth is that I have no idea what that looks like. I am all over the shop like a crazy woman’s breakfast.

Today, for example, I was contemplating where I might want to live once I sell the family home. My internal dialogue went something like this “How cool would it be to live in a fabulous warehouse apartment near the city?” … “But what if there’s not enough space for your (future) grandkids to stay … or all that cool polished concrete is slippery?” …  “Maybe you should move to the country and have chickens?” ….  “But you might be lonely … you wouldn’t be able to walk to hip restaurants and bars” …  “Who are you kidding. You’ll be in your 50’s … it’s not like you’ll be frequenting hip bars every other night” …. “You’re right. Where’s half way between the city and the country?” By my own admission I sound certifiably nuts and sadly, I repeat a similar internal dialogue on everything from employment and investment options to hobbies that might see me through my twilight years. The only thing that’s clear is that this is not the mindset of someone who should be making any hasty long-term decisions. Which leads me to a realisation of sorts. I need some time to regroup and gather my thoughts. I’m going on a gap year.

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