Mid-Life Crisis

Tomorrow will once again mark the completion by the planet Earth of an integer number of orbits around its host star since I was brought forth upon’t.  As is becoming traditional, I will spend much of this day in meetings – well, once you’ve seen a lump of rock return to broadly the same place in the local heavens a certain number of times, the novelty does start to wear off.

I am of an age when it would be appropriate to have a mid-life crisis – well, assuming I’m planning to stick around until my mid-nineties being a burden on the young of the future (and that sounds like a plan to me!).  Sadly, I still lack any interest in needlessly fast cars or the amorous entreaties of a well endowed, much younger woman (or, indeed, man – this is an equal opportunities blog, I spurn the affections of all) so I will have to find an alternative outlet for the angst due a chap of my vintage.

I’ve also rather failed to heed my genes and indulge in any procreative act, and so I cannot live vicariously through my offspring.  Nor, before anyone becomes over-excited, should this post be considered an appeal for a “partner” through which I can sire issue to inherit GofaDM.  These genes end here – though, on average, I suppose we should expect 25% of them to live on through my nephew (though I have yet to sound him out on taking over this post – in our last meeting, I mostly trounced him at the London Game).

I could perhaps start preparing for the day of judgment, but despite (or maybe because of) an O level in Religious Studies, I’m not terrifically taken with theism.  Nevertheless, I do expect to be judged: by the older me, who will no doubt be merciless in his views on how I have frittered away my forties.  All too little roaring has gone on, I fear.  Perhaps it is time to take the second act of my life by the scruff of its neck (after a suitable break for ice-cream and/or cake), so that my older self will be suitably impressed by the performance of my current incarnation.  Quite tricky to know what an elderly Fish will find impressive, given I am not the man now I was even 10 years ago – but hey, my day job is all about forecasting so this should be meat (or vegetarian alternative) and drink to me.

I have decided (well, “decided” is a bit strong – “come to a vague view that” might be closer to the mark) that I am too risk averse and just allow myself to drift through the days and years with no firm direction.  Don’t worry readers, I am not about to take up an extreme sport – way too well supplied with physical cowardice for that, hence my body remaining quite close to “mint” condition (though, sadly I have lost the box which will reduce my re-sale value).  It has struck me that most of what I do, I do alone (no sniggering at the back!) – including, for the most part writing this blog (though don’t get your hopes up, the writing will continue) – and so perhaps I should undertake something with more emotional or psychological risk and which involves other people in a more meaningful way.  It should probably also be less intellectually based (or at least using rather different parts of my decaying intellect then I typically tend to deploy) as, enormous fun though the OU was, it did rather play to my existing strengths.  Is it time to give the world my Lear?  (Edward, I suspect, rather than King).  Is it time to bite the bullet and sing with other people in a choral context (though this is more likely to work in organum than anything more recent)?  Or start my own band, religion or political party?  (I’m not really a joiner – just ask my woodwork teacher – so I will have to start my own).

The world may well be my oyster (not that I am a huge fan of the oyster, so perhaps it could be my scallop?) but what could I do with it to gain some small measure of approbation from a nonagenarian version of myself?  Answering this question is the plan for the near future – or the interval, as I shall be calling it – before I switch to become a man of action (or at least, slightly less inaction) and to hell with the entropic consequences.

Advertisements

Feel free to continue the lunacy...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s