8 and a half

“8 and half,” that’s what I tell Richard, my husband of 13 years, where I rank him on a scale of 1 to 10, where 1 is totally unsatisfied, and 10 totally satisfied. I ask him to respond in kind, and say he has just one chance of an answer, and it has to be a quick response. He retorts quickly back: “8 and half, right?” Bravo, I say, that’s excellent because, honestly there is always room for improvement, and perfection is not only impossible but utterly boring. I’m 41 now and wonder if I’ll have a midlife crisis. Isn’t it supposed to happen around now? A point in life where my life is fairly routine, with a steady government job, a  mortgage to pay and two kids to raise? Now that I think of it. Who has time for the drama? It’s tiring just getting through the regular work day with the commitments it entails. Who has time to engage in extra-curricular debauchery, be it at the bar, casino or someone else’s bed? I’m actually enjoying life. Of course, I think nostalgically about my youth, when I was younger and  freer, and all the time in the world to dream of Duran Duran, but I feel more confident now, know what I want (healthy work-life balance, sorry, I know that’s boring). I feel lucky to healthy, happy and surrounded by loved-ones. The midlife crises endemic in our societies are responses to consumer culture. Always in need of the next chapter purchase of our fast-paced lives, which feeds our crises.

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