I Was Oddly Satisfied By The Email I Sent. Midlife Crisis?

A few weeks ago I had sent an email to my "boss" explaining that I needed a little time off from writing structured columns. There were a few other things I addressed. I waited. And waited. Nothing. Life went on. On Tuesday I received an email from my "boss." By the way, he's cool. I like him. He gets my warped sense of humor and our back-and-forth banter reflects that.

He asked if I was okay. It had been a month since he had seen any work from me. It was a head scratching moment for me. It's been a month now. If there was any confusion or he missed my email, why let an entire month go by.

My intentions were to send a quick reply explaining that I had sent an email weeks ago regarding this. The email started out that way. However, in the space where my name should have gone to end the email, I kept typing. And typing. And typing.

I skimmed the content of the email for errors. Exhaled. Sent. 

I sat back in my chair oddly satisfied. It didn't bother me in the least that I had included some candid thoughts about the concepts, outdated lingo, how my "section" had veered off into a direction I wasn't happy with due to restrictions on topics and writing style, and what a huge time suck it had become. I was only getting paid for the final copy. I wasn't compensated for the time it took to research this stuff, edit, and the many revisions I made to walk the walk and talk the talk. That translates to altering my voice and style to something that was barely recognizable.

I also shed a little light on how I felt about the narrow, cheeky target audience I was writing for. They're people who wouldn't give me the time of day and, quite honestly, I didn't care.

Later in the afternoon, while mopping the floor, I thought, "Am I going through the famous midlife crisis?"

I was in my early 20's when I first heard the term "midlife crisis." Anyone between the ages of 40-50 who made a sudden life change, started acting erratically, had a love affair with someone 20 years younger, bought a sports car, had their nose pierced, got their first tattoo, etc., were accused of "being amid their midlife crisis." The jokes would surface. These sudden and, often times, irrational behaviors were justified in only two words. Midlife. Crisis.

I heard stories about midlife crisis that ranged from horrific to knee-slappin' funny and everything between. 

I continued to think about this.

Mop.

Think.

Mop.

Think.

More housework.

Prep dinner.

Nap.

Coffee.

Work.

That's the point I'm at now.

Is this my midlife crisis?