Pretending I'm Retired

Occasionally, I meet a student who says, “I don’t have anything to write about,” so I prompt them with a question. “What did you do this weekend?” Sometimes, that will solve the problem. They’ll exclaim, “Oh, I went over to So-and-so’s house and we built a fort out of all the pillows in the basement.” And they’ll scamper back to their desks with their head full of images and memories and begin to write. Other times, they say, “nothing.” Of course, that’s not true. What they mean is, nothing of consequence. Same old, same old. No trips to the water park, no pony rides at the fair…just a regular weekend with a few video games and a trip to Target with Mom. “There,” I say, “You can write about shopping.” You can write about your mom, how excited she was when she realized she had a coupon for the toothpaste that was also on sale. I mean, who gets excited about toothpaste? Moms do. You can write about how she started with a list, but then lingered in the dollar section looking at the spring

“I’m thinking of going back to college.” We’re sitting around the dinner table when I finally voice the idea taking shape in my mind over the last few months. Jack twirls his spaghetti into his fork and looks up. “I think Mom’s having a midlife crisis,” he says with a smirk. Am I? Maybe I am. I’m not shopping for a fancy sports car (I’ve been driving like an old lady since I was sixteen), and I’m certainly not trading Paul in for a younger model (still and always the love of my life—how did I get so lucky?), but lately there’s an undercurrent of languishing lurking beneath my busy façade. Here are some adjectives that describe me: goal-oriented, organized, detailed, creative. Those attributes have served me well, whether raising kids while working full-time, training for a marathon, or writing a book. These days, however, I often come home, eat dinner, put my pajamas on, and watch Netflix. It’s not good for me. Rather than feeling rested and rejuvenated, all this languishing