Midlife Meltdown: There’s just no way around it

 

The other day I got a simple text message from a friend. Here’s what she said,

 

“You’ve been horribly quiet”.

 

 

Damn it. Caught. Someone is actually paying attention. Son of a bitch.

 

Okay. Okay. It’s true. And anyone who reads me deserves an explanation because, after all, without you who read me, I wouldn’t have a reason to write. (I’m not one of those people who write because they can’t NOT express themselves- I could STOP in a NEW YORK second).

 

Alas, I am one of those people who stumbled upon the Blogging world, quite by accident, and sorta fell into a rhythm, and somehow built a following, and have enjoyed the ride.

 

 

 

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My first thought was to write about gardening, and I still do, but seriously how many freakin’ times can a gal talk about Roses, or the hornworms that are devouring the tomatoes?

 

 

 

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Well, it turns out, if you’re a writer like me without the gift for turning the mundane into prose, or a pig’s ear into a silk purse (because if my purses aren’t fine Italian leather they had better damn well be silk) about six times per season. The garden grows s-l-o-w-l-y and my patience is short.

 

 

 

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So… I began writing about food, and I still do, but even though I am a good fabulous cook, I still sling hash and open cans of crapola that I serve in a bowl. It’s not my style to create an alternative interwebs persona- the kind that makes planning/executing/serving a menu in kitten heels with a brilliant toothy smile and the calm of a zen master… look easy. I can assure you it is not. I’m still looking for a Buddhist monk that teaches the balance to be found between hot flashes and the bottom falling out of your retirement plan. If you find him, I pay well. (Who said money can’t buy happiness? I mistakenly bought some generic off-brand TP the other week and I promise you capitalism is of no better use then in the pursuit of a soft swipe on your nether regions). Jesus- How did that paragraph begin with food and end with a toilet soliloquy?

 

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Then, I began writing about all the fabulousness of my adopted city All Hail NOLA but between my liver and my waistline this girl has just got to stay home once in a while or I will BE the Bouef Gras on next year’s Mardi Gras float.

 

Of course this led to watching more NEWS and that got me all fired-up so the keys on the laptop began spelling sentences that began with ‘How in the Hell?’ and ended with ‘Screw them all!’

 

Nice. Very restful internal dialogue.

 

And finally, I happened upon the friend-making, kittens-and-cream, Santa Klaus-is-real!- niche of satire.

 

 

 

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But when you’re not feeling funny it’s hard to be a smart ass.

 

And it’s hard to be funny when you’re having a midlife meltdown.

 

Let’s discuss:

 

I am in a very odd place with my bed-ridden mother whom I have nothing more exciting to discuss, then if she slept through the night, unless I am dismissed when her meal arrives.

 

 

I am in the process (and by ‘process’ I mean unclustering a cluster fuck) of gathering all of our ‘overflow’ whodickies which are currently stacked at 30 feet in one of Ben’s warehouses, so that they (and by ‘they’ I mean things I haven’t seen or needed in 10 years) can be transported to a private storage facility, where I will go through everything and decide what stays (because even something I don’t want in front of me might make me happy one day right?) and what goes… into a yard sale.

 

Which brings me to the dreaded Yard Sale and the inevitable ‘shopper’ who will bring his dog through the gate to piss on the rug that I am trying to sell.

 

Also, my husband and I are taking a combined eight pharmaceutical prescriptions- and those are only for the things we’re willing to ‘admit’. We still maintain a healthy amount of self delusion which will kill us, of course.

 

We really need to purchase some kind of longterm health insurance- now. And speaking of insurance- I am drowning in it- auto, home, life, riders, health, flood, key-man, term, whole, universal, umbrella, liability. I am insuring a life that will not be worth a penny once I get through paying for all the insurance to insure the life.

 

And I am thinking I really should finally monetize this here little blog. That requires a tax ID, an LLC (With insurance. Kill me now), and product.

 

‘Product’, you say? Yes. I am the product, I know, but I’m also thinking about selling A Pleasant House thingies- like this adorable apron I designed, and garden tools, and private label local food staples, and crystal clear acrylic wine glasses that won’t break when you fall over in the garden!

 

 

 

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Then there is the long forlorn A Pleasant House cookbook which I can’t seem to pull out of my ass adorable apron. How many drafts until you keel over?

 

Least I forget that I am actually toying with the idea of starting a Food Truck built from a 1979 Citroen. Yes I am. A Pleasant House Cookery: Vintage food for Today. Oy Vey.

 

 

 

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All of this at nearly 58. I need to sleep- which is another thing that’s not a bowl of cherries.

 

On the bright side our kid’s are FABU and our son is getting married next spring!

 

 

 

 

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Of course, I have to lose 20lbs, get a facelift, and grow back the inch in height I’ve lost before I can attend.

 

 

Fogettaboutit

 

So, if you’re still inclined to read my shizz, may I suggest you buckle up because unless Santa sends me a roundtrip ticket to his neck-o-the-woods and I enjoy a spa day with several Elf masseurs it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

 

 

 

 

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There’s just no way around it.

 

 




  • Lisa at Grandma's Briefs - Ugh! Yeah, it’s so hard to blog when IRL things are funky. Do know, though, you don’t always have to be funny. We will still love you. Besides, you are funny even when you don’t mean to be.

    That said, good luck with the unclustering and more. And congrats to your son on his engagement. Cute couple!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Thanks Lisa. You’re one in a million. Your words are encouragement for me.ReplyCancel

  • Roshni - So, you’re living life instead of just blogging about it?!! Seems pretty reasonable to me!
    And, what an adorable photo of your son and future daughter-in-law!!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Yes Roshni- yes. Leave to you to put it all in perspective in a single sentence. Love you gal!ReplyCancel

  • Jeffrey Scott - Yikes! I can relate. Sometime things just pile up. Hang in there. Or go out and scream, that helps once in a while.ReplyCancel

  • Sharon Hodor Greenthal - Please keep writing. You’re so good at it.ReplyCancel

  • Ines Roe - I love your post and was totally enthralled because I identified with so much of it. There comes a time in our life in which we have to refocus, redefine and trudge forward. Thank you for taking us along on your ride.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - My God – could I love you more? Yes- refocus and recharge are the words of the day!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Yes- it is a bit confusing. hahaaaReplyCancel

  • Ellen Dolgen - You are hilarious! Even when your are silent you are funny!ReplyCancel

  • Penelope Shelfer - Don’t work too hard, dear! We *must* have time to rejoice that we’re survivors of human atrocities heaped upon us by our beloved family! !LOL!ReplyCancel

  • Carolann - Oh my goodness, know this – you are not alone. Same age as you and know just what you mean.I keep saying..and this too shall pass…it helps…somewhat lol.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - If I had known then what I know now…. I wouldn’t have given as much a sh*t. Thank you for the camaraderie. This too shall pass…this too shall pass…ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - Ok, for sure i love the apron. I would buy one, except I found 8, count ’em, 8 aprons when I did my own purging. The way I dealt with it is that we are renting a year round vacation place at the ocean and I’ll bring some there. It’s extreme, but…ReplyCancel

  • Bryce Warden - That was a fun little ride…will be waiting for more. Onward warrior woman.ReplyCancel

  • Lois Alter Mark - I think we all have midlife meltdowns. We’re here for you and hope you’ll keep writing about them!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It’s getting harder and harder but maybe if I came along in your suitcase to PV that might help! HA!ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - Don’t worry about the twenty pounds and a face lift. Once you are through the mid-life melt down, the pounds go away. I’m now close to what I was BC *before children). Of course, that took twenty years to happen and somehow my body rearranged itself, but it isn’t worth worrying about. Keep on having a blast and I’ll raise a glass of wine to your yard sale. I really need to have one, but that hasn’t happened in fourteen years. My daughter can worry about it. Fabulous picture of your son and daughter-in-law to be.ReplyCancel

  • David - Good fucking lord… I think my uterus popped out reading this…. Thankfully it was all first nation problems… so you still got it as far as I am concerned… This too shall pass…like a kidney stone… Love… ds… .ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - You’re right, after all I did push two bowling balls out of my garden hose, and THAT wasn’t easy! Kidney Stones be damned! XXOOReplyCancel

      • David - Kidney Stones are the male birthing experience… they are one example when tighter is not better…ReplyCancel

  • Estelle Sobel Erasmus - Happy to join you for the ride! Thanks for the update!ReplyCancel

  • Mary - I love this post! Actually, I love all your post and I’m buckling up for more!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It’s amazing to me I actually HAVE readers! And I thank God for them- and you. Thanks Mary– xxooReplyCancel

  • Sue - I relate to so much on this list Cheryl and I am going through many of these things too so thank you very much for writing what I am thinking and thinking what I am think. Love the apron and I want to sell stuff too and have been looking into it. I love you even when your quiet. Best to you and your lovely mother.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Thanks Sue. I’m so glad we have each other’s backs. XXOOReplyCancel

  • Janie Emaus - I’m here if you need me!ReplyCancel

  • Lynda@fitnessmomwinecountry - Buckle up? Heck I was strapped in months ago when I started reading and have not left the seat! I do not envy your storage situation and having a yard sale. NOPE, I don’t keep anything because I am just way too organized and wound too tight to have crap anywhere. LOL
    You want a garage sale story? The day I had one and let a child use our bathroom … it involved me screaming {the entire yard hears from outside} water coming through the door and running down the steps to the living room …YEP you can imagine!
    Thanks for being here Cheryl 🙂ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Holy Shit. Yard sales really bring out the dregs-of-the-Earth don’t they? Of course, I’ve been telling myself I’m not living with clutter either- way too organized, until I remembered that all my crap is in the warehouse! *head shaking* As for the ‘ride’ I’m very happy you’re joining me. ROAD TRIP! HahahaaaReplyCancel

  • Lisa Froman - Always a fun ride!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - We need a meet-and-greet Lisa. I’ll pick you up! ZoomZoom.ReplyCancel

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