Wilding

Well, as no one can sustain the foul mood of a birthday gone bad, I feel better today.

Thank you for my well wishes, and my assurances that midlife is not till 40. However, women are more mature then men, so it would make sense that mine would start now.

I’m happy to feel today, that my crisis is fascinating.

I was so freaking close to just not coming in here today. I was already here, at work, outside, and I swear I was one unconnected neuron away from walking away from it. Never coming back, going to buy a 40 ouncer at 8:30 in the morning and just not coming back. Taking a long walk around the city and finding myself some crazy job on some South Wells bar. I almost still wish I had. My head is more about me now, and I would never do that, all the more reason I should have done it this morning.

But man, this morning I was so close to just ditching society and it’s shits and taking a walk far away.

And I do feel better, and I do have my head about me today, but I feel…still crazy. Still a little fricking whack, that the possibility of just doing something I would never do could still happen. Maybe it’s a secret hope.

I do believe that to break out of the “societal chains” most people have to have something crazy happen. Or they wake up one day and actually do what I wanted, just let go of it. And there’s a part of me that is so jealous of that, that I wish something like that would happen to me, that I’d wake up tomorrow with the knowledge that I’m not playing the game anymore.

I don’t need a house, I don’t need a retirement plan, I don’t need these things that I’m forced to believe I need. Why not take off? Walk away from it? Sell the new old couch and my Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer stuffed animal and take my 50$ and go get on a bus, and just land…wherever. Write, work, experience, travel, hell, even if it’s on the Greyhound.

And I think what’s partly so depressing and repressing of me, is that I fear I’ll never do that.

I fear that I’ll be breaking my back for all of the things I don’t want and need till the day I die.

There is no way this ain’t a midlife crisis.

Or menopause.