I've been strangely mercurial this last week. Perhaps it's because my Mother is living with us. Perhaps it's because my husband had a wretched case of the flu for three v-e-r-y long days.
Or maybe, it's just another sign that I'm getting older.
My husband and I have never devised a Plan together. I can tell you my retirement plan. I can also tell you that my husband plans to never retire. Getting him to commit to goal that we work on together...Impossible.
Being married is hard. I have gypsy blood. I constantly want new experiences. I want to taste different cultures, envelope myself wholly in a New Lifestyle. My husband, on the other hand, is Mr. Roots. He is bound to the ground on which we live.
"Let's move across the Bay where we can have more land and some privacy!" "Nope."
"Let's move to Granite Bay where we can buy a (small) home outright and I can be home to raise the kids!" "No way."
"Let's move to Virginia near your parents!" (Total desperation has set in at this point.) "You'd hate it there. I'm not moving."
I am so antsy I want to jump out of my skin. What is it I need right now?
I need to plan. I need to pray. I need someone to tell me what to do.
I wish I had a Life Mentor. Someone who could guide me with wisdom, help me make the right decisions, or even force the issue when need be. I'm rarely unsure of myself, but in the back of my mind, I have this nagging little thump telling me that if we ever move away...we'll never be able to move back. This is the unwritten Golden Handcuff Clause of California. Sure, you'll build up tons of equity. All while enjoying the rich culture, the theater, the restaurants, the lovely weather. God help you if you try to move away and be happy. I'm not aware of too many places that compare well to California. And I've heard several stories about The Regret by people who did try to move away. They always come back. Or at least they try. Because it's near impossible to re-enter the real estate market after you've been gone for as little as 1 year.
I daydream about moving, he won't engage, so I get mad. Then we talk and take a few moments to appreciate all that we have in life...and I am madly in love. With him. My Home. My Life.
I'm having Emotional Hotflashes! Yearinings for something different, something better. Moments when I catch my breath and think How Did I Ever Get This Lucky?
Is this the precursor to menopause? Is this a mid-life crisis?
I'm 41 years old and I want more...of the same, yet something different.