Tag Archives: age

Let’s Plan My Mid-life Crisis

My 30th birthday is next month and before you ask, no, I do not have any wild and crazy plans to commemorate this momentous occasion. I love celebrating birthdays—or random Wednesdays—but I’m not into celebrating my own.

So now that I’ve put the kabosh on the surprise party you had planned for me, let’s move on to the bigger issue—the midlife crisis I am planning.

never-too-early-start-birthday-ecard-someecards

For the record, I do not plan on growing an Afro.

I’m not sure who decided that 50 was the age when it a midlife crisis was expected to happen.  That’s being awfully presumptuous, as not that many people  live to be 100 and have Williard Scott  put their picture on the side of a Smucker’s jelly jar, butcher their name and wish them a Happy Birthday.

Considering my propensity for falling up stairs and landing on the one needle in a haystack, I’ll be lucky to make it to 50. So even though I don’t want to tempt fate, I’ve optimistically decided to be proactive and use 30 as my mid-life marker.

If I make it to 60, then I can look back at how I was able to accurately cash in on the whole thing. If I make it past 60, then I’m really considered and overachiever and everything else is just icing on the (birthday) cake.

It makes perfect sense to me, but then again, so does only buying clothes that will never need ironing.

Anyway, I’ve been doing a little observational research, and I’ve found that in order to have this mid-life crisis I’m supposed to do one or all of the things listed below. I haven’t quite worked out the details yet, but your suggestions would be most appreciated as soon as possible.

After all, I’m not getting any younger.

Midlife Crisis To-Do List

While purple is my favorite color, I need to adopt a love of yellow and buy expensive yellow things. My research has shown that yellow sports cars and yellow motorcycles are the most common thing to purchase with money the mid-lifer doesn’t have.

I’m not into cars, but that’s okay because I’ve also noticed that yellow hair is an acceptable substitute. Male or female, yellow or platinum blond hair that previously wasn’t is a sure sign of youth and sends nothing but “I’m not having a midlife crisis and dying my hair out of desperation” vibes.

midlifecrisiscat

I’ve been platinum before, so this is an option to consider once again.

Change of Scenery

Through my research I’ve found that if I really want to do this crisis right, I have to quit my job and book a flight to Tanzania to climb Kilimanjaro. Despite semi-stable employment (and the possibility of additional car payments and salon visits,) I should throw caution to the wind and become one with an extreme challenge in a foreign country.

If I’m lucky and make it to the top, platinum blond hair blowing in the wind, this will evidently prove that I am still a free spirit and physically capable of pushing myself past the boundaries of normal people my age. This would probably be more impressive if I was actually of AARP status and not only 30, so it’s possible I should hold off on this until that point.

Hook It Up

I need to have an affair with someone either much older or much younger than me, and I’m torn about which way to go with this one.

annepoorchoices

If I go the cougar route and rob the cradle, I most certainly benefit from the physical aspects of this relationship. Plus, parading him out in public would be a nice boost to my ego.

However, if I rob the wealthy retirement home, I benefit from the Sugar Daddy aspectand physical demands would be limited to feeding him mechanically processed oat bran with a silver spoon and wiping his chin.

Both are probably looking for someone to take care of them, meaning I’ll most likely opt for my continued unrequited love affair with several professional athletes and Daniel Tosh.

Or get a plant.

Crisis Conclusion

I suppose another option is just to embrace my entrance into mid-life and complain about the weather, pretend not to hear people, go to bed early, choose veggies over beer, glare at loud children, refuse to join Twitter/gripe about how I miss “real” books and conversation, clip coupons every Sunday and then blog about all these mundane daily events in an attempt to keep my questionable sanity.

Oh crap.

It seems I’m ahead of my time…