That's me. I'm restless right now. Not just RIGHT now, but in my life in general. I feel like I can't get settled or grounded. That's not a bad thing -- it's not like I'm wishing for someone else's life, more like I'm looking to shake up my own a bit.
After I dropped Annie off at volleyball tonight, I drove around for about 30 minutes looking at houses for sale. Now, we have a perfectly nice house. Probably very nice. But we've been here almost 11 years and I'm getting the 11-year itch.
Oh sure, if we were actually to move, I'd be here complaining about having to pack up more than a decade's worth of stuff, wringing my hands about when someone is going to buy our house. But I don't think about that when I'm scanning the 4-bedroom with basement options on the local real estate site.
When I'm not thinking about buying a new house, I consider selling my car and getting a new one. Not NEW new, but new to me. Smaller, cheaper. Just something to get me to and from work.
You know I must be a little off when I say that I've even begun reading with some measure of seriousness the "Dog needs a good home" e-mails that get sent around work. To quote what my mother will say when she reads that, "I need a dog like I need a hole in the head."
The good news -- for Mike, anyway -- is that my restlessness is limited to houses, cars and pets. Not husbands. Not yet.
Maybe this is a midlife crisis. Maybe its cabin fever -- the effect of taking two warm weather vacations then having to come back to more winter. (I know, boohoo for me!) Maybe it's some deep psychological phenomenon.
Whatever it is, I think I'll buy a new pair of shoes tomorrow and see if that's enough shaking up to snap me out of it.