If you have been following along this sad excuse for a blog, you know that I quit grad school, quit academia, and decided to take a year off to do some Good Works and maybe write a book. I blew up my life, and I have to say, the funniest (and funnest) part of this is how many other women I meet in my age bracket who are doing the same, or who aren’t, but really, really want to. It is like joining a secret sorority, whose members are only recognizable to each other. The other day I had coffee with a neighbour after bus drop off, and we were talking about how the life we have now, while much loved, isn’t the life we necessarily pictured for ourselves, a story I hear from a lot of my female friends. Its funny, this middle-age business, especially for women, how hitting that peri-menopausal window starts the reflection process, and how that reflection becomes realized (or avoided) in one’s life.
For me, I want to throw more parties, do more higher-level charity work, and write. Maybe start a rock band of like-minded women, and secretly rock out in the garage. I bet Lilly Pulitzer would do an electric guitar, if we asked. They’ve done bikes and jeeps; how hard could it be? Take up golf, again. Travel. Live a life with less stuff, and more experiences.
This weekend, an old friend died, completely unexpectedly. She was 41 years old, and I don’t even know what to say about it except that the last time we saw each other in person was just before the holidays, because, you know, so busy, and all. But I was just about to email her and set up a lunch date when I got the news, and now I can’t quite process the here/not here part of this situation. I don’t have some happy wrap up to this, or a great epiphany, or a fun dog story. I think the winter crushed me a bit this year, and I need some sustained sunlight and a warm wind to blow the blues away.