Anyone else in the major‑life‑transition boat? Because wow, I mean like, WOW, I sure am.
- I’m 50.
- The world is in chaos. Again.
- I’ll probably have to move in a year.
No worries, right? Deer in headlights look. Sigh.
I’d love to say, “Just breathe, everything will be fine!” But I don’t sugarcoat things.
So what do we do?
- (Okay, fine.) Breathe
- Assess (I know what some of you read, I did too.)
- Act
You know that old “fake it ‘till you make it” line? Feels like my alma mater:
“What school did you go to?
“School of Tarot.”
“Oh? So …what’s your card?”
“Hanged Man.”
“Say what?”
“You know — guy hanging upside down by the ankle from a wood post? Stuck. Limbo. Waiting.”
“Oh. You’re joking.”
“Kind of. Not about the Hanged Man. Just the alma mater part. That card follows me everywhere.”
Big cheesy grin.
Not the best opener, but seriously — I KNOW I’m not the only Gen Xer sitting here going, “What am I even DOING anymore.”
(Aside: yes, I KNOW the punctuation rules. Yes, I see you, Grammar Na- Enforcers. Let’s not use that older word anymore.)
Okay…. Right. I was talking about… burnout? Transitions?
Where are my glasses… Aha.
Anyway — maybe it’s just me.
Cough
I’ll go make some chai.
Professor's Cozy Cottage of Surprises 
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