I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Now, for one, I'm hoping it's too soon - my gorgeous No. 1 son and I have made a pact that we're both going to get a letter from the Queen and live till we're 100, so at 41 it's too early. For two, I always envisaged my mid-life crisis would entail something radical like a tattoo or buying a motor cycle (two things I've always wanted but thought I had to use as my mid-life excuse). Instead, I seem to have come out of my shell via a different avenue. I seem to be turning into the bitch from hell!
In years gone by, if everyone else was okay, so was I. If anyone needed me for anything, I'd don my cape and be there in a flash. Now I just want everyone to take responsibility for themselves. I don't want to be relied on and I can no longer suffer fools. I expect the highest standard of respect and if I don't get it, I'll turn my back. I've always been quick to forgive but now I find my heels digging deeper and deeper in the ground and I'm less willing to compromise.
I must admit, it does feel quite liberating but at the same time, it scares me a bit. At the moment I'm thinking I'll get the stresss of exams and essays of the next four weeks out of the way and I might book a little weekend away - on my own (and I'll get there via my pink Harley with matching helmet and a little maltese terrier called Suki sitting in the side car!). Mid-life crisis? I'm not sure!