Have been feeling a little glum lately. You know when you’re in your twenties, everything seems very fresh and exciting (and as far as work was concerned: terrifying, with long and horrible hours), and romantic adventures seemed to come thick and fast? And then, in your thirties, you’re trying to deal with very young children as well as work (still terrifying, still sitting exams)? Your forties feel a bit more settled, kids still a worry but at least they can dress and feed themselves, better hours at work, which is more secure and less terrifying. But then you start to realize that you’ve probably peaked as far as work is concerned – no, you aren’t going to get a job at the Mayo Clinic, or sub specialize in something sexy like cardiac or paeds. You still worry about your kids, because you’d forgotten how hard it is to become a grown up. It could almost be a midlife crisis, except that you haven’t taken a young lover (too much trouble), and you have no desire to buy a Maserati or a Harley (although, come to think of it, I could make an exception for a Tesla…)
