It was about a week before my 48th birthday. I had just left my therapist’s office to run home (I mean not literally run, but drive) to put on my gym clothes to get my butt to the gym. There is some irony in that sentence—I’ll deal with it later. Why didn’t I just run home, wouldn’t that have been easier?
I digress. Anyway, as I dropped off my son for band before Zumba, my car hit the 100k mile mark. The proverbial “aha” moment occurred—just like out of the movies, I could almost hear the anticipation music begin. I had been struggling with this stuff called “mid-life” and now, it seems my car and I had something in common. We both knew, on some level that we were more than ½ way in life. What were we going to do in the next half of our lives that would be meaningful not only for ourselves, but for those that depended on us. How many more medical appointments would we need to endure? The expensive time in both of our lives was upon us. ...I have health insurance.
I digress. Anyway, as I dropped off my son for band before Zumba, my car hit the 100k mile mark. The proverbial “aha” moment occurred—just like out of the movies, I could almost hear the anticipation music begin. I had been struggling with this stuff called “mid-life” and now, it seems my car and I had something in common. We both knew, on some level that we were more than ½ way in life. What were we going to do in the next half of our lives that would be meaningful not only for ourselves, but for those that depended on us. How many more medical appointments would we need to endure? The expensive time in both of our lives was upon us. ...I have health insurance.