Pardon My Mini Mid-Life Crisis

Raise your hand if you've ever experienced a mini mid-life crisis.

I see those hands. ッ

Once again, poor ol' Debra is Mini Mid-Life Crisis Cranky. I say once again, because it's certainly not the first time. And thank-goodness it never lasts long.

Just the same ol' same ol' symptoms:

I want to decorate my house to reflect myself, yet Tom and I keep talking about moving in the near future. Moving where? We have no idea.

I think about fixing up this house to sell and then I run out of energy just thinking about all that needs to be done.

I feel incredibly healthy one day, then have the pre-menopausal bleary-eyed-headachy-blues the next. Oh, and did I mention that I'm now allergic to all my favorite comfort foods and if I don't eat like a boring Healthy Hanna every single day, my body rebels?

Moving along--

Tom and I agree we need to come up with some new hobbies, but for the life of us, we can't decide on any.

Tom has a whole string of days off right now and we'd like to go on vacation, but we can't think of any place we'd like to go. Plus, all the packing-up and taking our high-maintenance cats over to our daughter's (and having her come over here to water our yard) just sounds like way too much hassle.

We consider taking day trips instead of a vacation, but we've already done that to death and, after 13 years, we have this whole area memorized.

I want to have company, but Tom doesn't (he's having a little mid-life crisis of his own. It's more fun, of course, when you are both looney-bin-bound at the same time.).

One day I feel certain of the Life Direction which Tom and I should take. The next day the whole thing sounds preposterous, unlikely and just too much work. We both know God is going to change our lives soon, but we don't know how (so we make blind little preparations month after month and year after year and just hope we're, if not on the right track, at least pretty darn close).

Oh the Limbo Land-ness of it all.

Growing pains-- that's what it boils down to, I think. These mini-crisis' always feel like being a teenager all over again, though being one in a much older body, one with grey hair (which isn't helping my morale a whole lot right now, either).

Oh well. This too shall pass. It always does, you know.

I mean, thank Heaven that God is still God.
He is still good.
And He still hangs-out at my house--even when I'm not exactly pleasant to be around.


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