here is nothing wrong in having a preference for how we would like our life to be. But rigid single mindedness can lead to vulnerability, when life and those around us do not deliver. We may not have the necessary mental and emotional resilience and agility to bounce back and adjust accordingly. If we are less accepting of the value of others' difference, then we may find it hard, if others struggle with our own difference.
Of course my life since then hasn't been a disaster, and you can't sift out and keep the good bits. I enjoyed my university education, despite being a long way from home and abjectly failing to make any friends. I'm happily married now, and I can't separate that from all the other choices that I've made.
So for now, it's back to my temp job ( I'm sat here now with nothing but this computer, my phone and people walking past this reception desk either ignoring me or being told "I smell delicious" by an old man), and some good comedy gigs to look forward to. Have a good weekend and if you don't enjoy your job, walk out. NOW (you won't regret it).
It's been over a year now and, as I hoped and feared, it's been the most fun/interesting/terrifying year I've had for a few decades. On the whole, it would have been cheaper to buy a sportscar and less time-consuming to have an affair with a 25 year old, but, as I can't drive and am happy with my fella, this 45 year old's mid-life crisis is a "follow your dream" business startup.
It was she who encouraged me to leave my dead-end job with no regrets and launch a media consultancy business from the kitchen table, join a gym and pump iron, write a book and two screenplays at exactly the same time with only vague notions about plot, indulge in a series of ineffectual health food fads and therapists...
At 41, I had a baby. Followed 17 months later by another... and all the life-skewing, skin-flaying emotions they have brought with them... so, what next? I set up my own business and Big Fish Little Fish Productions - running family club events on weekend afternoons - was born. A micro-festival for the post-rave generation of parents and children.
I'm hurtling towards my 42nd birthday. It's not even around the corner, it's standing right in front of me with a mean look on it's face and it's punching one fist into the palm of it's other hand. It looks like trouble, it looks like it means trouble and for all intents and purposes, it most probably is trouble.
Are we just being spoiled whiners, as older generations would no doubt label us? I'm not so sure. Our parents' generation had a solid understanding of what they were supposed to be doing at every stage of their life, until they hit their fifties and realised it had all been too planned out and they hadn't enjoyed their youth to the fullest.