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Normal Is Boring
How I got over my hankering for the conventional life.
“So, what’s going on with you?” My therapist asked me.
“I don’t really know. I’m just a little unhappy. Not like depressed or miserable, but a little agitated and ill at ease.”
“Why do you think that is?” She said.
“I think it’s cos I’m in my 40s but I still rent and don’t own my own place. Erm, and I don’t know how to drive. Erm, and I’ve been married for 11 years but we don’t have a baby. And I live in a different country from my family and in-laws, so I don’t get to do Sunday lunches with the clan like my sister and my cousins do.”
“And you wish you had those things, that you could do all those things?” She queried.
“No, actually I don’t. The idea of a monthly mortgage, parallel parking, being chained to a needy little human, and listening to relatives argue over politics or religion isn’t my idea of a good time. But I feel bad about not having these things in my life.”
“Why?” She asked.
“Well, because conventional, well-adjusted people in their 40s own property, have a driver’s license and children, and they show up for family dos — preferably with a bottle or wine or something they baked from scratch. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re a grown-up. That’s what normal…
