Sunday, April 20, 2008

Towards a mid-life crisis

I dream of an uncomplicated life. You know, the kind of life where you know what to expect from day to day; where sane people work an 8 hour day, and spend time with spouse and children in the evenings and at weekends. Superficially, our household is not so very far from that model. No spouse, I grant you, but I work a five day week not far from home, and with three teenagers, a dog and a cat, we're not so very far from the pattern.

But that's where it ends. Predictability largely fails when it comes to teenagers, school and casual work: it's a major success of domestic logistics if I know who is going to be in for dinner on any given day, and with the more eccentric school hours of sixth form study, I'm never quite sure whether or not I have to get them up in the morning.

Meanwhile the lighter load of this term at work is about to revert with the news that my newly returned colleague is having surgery at the end of the month, leaving me once again to fill the gaps. I'm running out of energy for this kind of workload. I'm still reaping the effects of her last absence, marking twice the usual complement of essays after covering her teaching last term.

You'd think that things outside home and work might be a little better. Not a bit of it! Penultimate son was due to go on a school trip to see Equus at the Lyceum, but on the day of the trip, his head teacher suddenly discovered that it included swearing and nudity, and in a paroxysm of philistinism, cancelled the trip. (How could anyone *not* know Equus contained nudity and swearing after Daniel Radcliffe made the headlines therein?)

"Fear not - you shall go to the ball!"" I thought, spending the whole month's child benefit plus a bit in one go to get tickets for the last night. The first half was mesmerisingly wonderful. The second half was cancelled when the winches to lift the safety curtain broke. Sometimes, you get the feeling that things just were not meant to be...


Behind all this, I'm trying to arrange a controlled mid-life crisis as I review where I am and where I want to go next. Somewhere in the mix, I am trying to reconcile the fact that I am fed up of being poor with a genuine belief that what I am doing here has value; that I want a sexy car and a bit of a life before I'm too old to have either; the sense that there must be more to life than this with the dreadful sense that this is probably all there is.

A short break with my lover shortly after Easter gave me a little relief from the chaos and angst, and apart form the deliciousness of time together, also gave us the chance to do some work on our collaborative project. Doing something so very different to my normal work is both a challenge and a joy, and helps to keep at bay the simmering eddies of discontent. I think this is the psychological equivalent of spring-cleaning: one has to deal with creepy crawlies and cobwebs to restore order. But order will, no doubt, be restored soon enough.