Interlife crisis (noun) a period of dramatic self-doubt felt by some individuals in the middle period of their internet use, as a result of growing confusion and/or disconnect between their presence online and their presence offline and the difficulties of maintaining both. Sometimes, a crisis can be triggered by transitions experienced in these years, such as the death of one or more past blogs or online projects, the obsolescence of profiles on once-popular social media platforms, or a change in employment that affects the amount of time a person spends in front of a computer.Â The result may be a desire to make insignificant changes in core aspects of day-to-day life or situation, such as reworking their privacy settings or quitting Facebook altogether, attempting to make their own custom blog/CMS, or just starting a damned Tumblr. Â These changes, however, are often accompanied by significant emotional turmoil.
Some men go their whole lives without ever living in a well-lit bathroom, or having to clean one, never realizing how much piss actually splashes up onto the rim of the toilet â€“ and past that, onto the floor â€“ when they pee.
As I stood up to leave, I suggested to my hand surgeon that the large framed picture Iâ€™d stared at every time Iâ€™d waited in the diagnosis/examination room â€“ a picture of a climber clinging to a rock face high in the mountains, the only picture in a room where patients sit and wait to be told when (or if) we will be able to do things like tie our own shoes again, let alone climb rocks â€“ might be better placed in the therapy room.
When the Postal Service loses the contents of your package, but not the packaging itself, they cut off part of it and send it to you along with a Parcel Search Request Form that says â€œAn empty wrapper with your address was found in the mail and it is believed to have been separated from a parcel during handling (see attached address portion of the wrapper)â€, leaving you feeling as if youâ€™ve received a ransom note containing the severed body parts of someone whoâ€™s been kidnapped.
Waiting in my car at a stoplight today, I turned off the radio and rolled down the window to hear a band playing for a small crowd on the sidewalk, and as the light turned green and I began to accelerate away from the intersection, mindlessly, I reached for the volume dial on my car radio to try to make the band louder.