Mid-Life Crisis Anyone?

I’m only 38.  But I think I might be there… somewhere’s around mid-life, and in an identity crisis, AGAIN.

I don’t want a convertible.  Or a boob job, or an ass lift.  I don’t want a 20 year old pool boy.  Maybe, I would.  If he was from Brazil.  But not really.

Lately I just want to drive around with my music loud and pretend I’m not a mom, or a wife, or an office manager.  I want to be someone completely different.  What if I had picked a different path?

What would she be like?

Hmmmm…..she would live in a condo, in downtown……Seattle? No… Portland?  I don’t know.

She would drive a VW TDI Golf, Red. There would not be broken crayons on the floor, and the seats would not have spots of unknown sticky stuff.

She would work in a fun, swanky clothing store and dress really nice.

She would not own a pair of cotton briefs. Not. One.  All her undies would be cute.. and her bras.  Cute.  Not basic white bought in 3-pack from Costco.

Laundry would not overwhelm her.

She would eat out a lot, and not at fast food places.

She would like to cook.

Men would want her, but they are merely a hobby for her.

Bleh.  I’m done.  Honestly, I don’t know that I would even like “her.”  She is probably lonely wishing she had a husband and kids to crack her up.  She would not have developed the sense of humor that I have….had to have.

I will still need to go for a drive by myself now and then.  With my music loud and my mind in la la land (eyes on the road).  I need to.  I always come back home.

Crisis averted?