Mid-Life? Crisis?


For years, I've been saying that I'm into my mid-life crisis. And then I did the math.

I should be so lucky to live to 96. Or 86.

If I make it to 76, I'll call it a good, full life.

And so, I'd say this is an over-the-hill-life crisis.

Lori and I have talked about whatever you want to call this stage in life for a while now. This is how the story went when I first entered this stage:
Me: You know, at this stage of life, I'm going to want either a sporty little car or an affair.
Lori: Buy the car. Ultimately, it's cheaper.
I started shopping online. I visited a couple of dealerships, picking up brochures but not talking to salespeople, not asking for test drives. I'd go home and show Lori the glossy pages, point out the features and options.
Lori: Why are you showing me these? You're not buying a car.
Me: Now I'm confused. You're sending me mixed messages.
But the car shopping didn't stop. I'd point out automobiles on commercials or as we drove past dealerships.
Me: What about that one? Or that one?
Lori: Just have the affair. That way, you'll shut up about it.
With colder weather setting in and winter not far away, we've started talking about getting a second car (we've always been a one-vehicle family): this time, Lori has been leading the charge. A couple of weeks ago, she suggested that we go and check out some cars, take a few test drives.

Having grown up with a father in the car-sales business, I take test drives seriously.
Me: I'm not going for a test drive unless we're serious about buying. And I don't mean a couple of months down the road. I mean that we limit ourselves to a couple of models, do the drives, and make a decision. And then buy the car within the week.
Lori: I'm serious.
So we went for a test drive on Saturday. And two more this week. Three different cars in the same class, all of them with the same or similar features. We priced them out, and they're all comparable.

Last night, we made our decision. At least, I did. Lori has firmly eliminated one, has mostly eliminated another. We both like the third choice. But it's a big step to take that plunge and drop 27K.

This is the new crisis.

Lori is returning to the dealership today, on her own. She needs to compare two of the in-stock models that we liked without me standing over her, putting in my two cents' worth (I can apply more pressure than any salesperson). It's down to a charcoal grey model with a sunroof (she really wants one) and a white one (our preferred colour) with no sunroof (I'm indifferent) but with a custom interior design that's really cool (black-and-white, striped leather and black-and-white console).

Today, I hold my breath. And I think the mid-life crisis is now in Lori's hands. For her, it's appropriate. If her family stock has any say in it, she'll easily live into her 90s.

Stay tuned.

Comments

  1. I think the affair might have been less stressful, overall... And is a mistress REALLY going to cost you 27k? Only if you pay her rent. And then you're her sugar daddy, which is not quite the same thing.

    Good luck with the car! From my perspective, the interior of a vehicle means a lot. The sedan I bought last year looks so pimp inside. I'm still so happy every time I climb into it. Not that I think sunroofs are a bad thing, but the interior is an all-season feature, you know?

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    Replies
    1. Thanks for your comment. I think my wife meant that the price of a car was less than lawyers fees and divorce costs.

      I agree about interior. Your eyes fall on it more while driving than looking up.

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