The Physics of Quarter-Life Crisis

August 21st, 2014

So you know how in stories, the protagonist always struggles through some terrible battle or dark valley? Then they find the light, push through, seize the day, win the game, save the world. Of course, the lesson is simple: victory is just an epiphany away, all you need is one more push.

At least, that's what I learned. But life isn't like that. Instead of doling out magic swords and great quests, the world always seems to find unexpected ways to smack you upside the head. Instead of "once upon a time" I think all stories should start with "just when I thought I had it all together…"

Several weeks ago, I got back from a month-long trip through Europe. And immediately upon arriving in the States, I felt like a deer stepping from forest onto paved road. Adventures, exotic locations, and split-second decisions that changed what country I slept in all contrasted enormously to my life back here. That shock of coming back, combined with a breakup soon after, wrought more than a few changes in my life. And I couldn't label that process until my brother - the one with a Master's in mental health - gave it a name: quarter-life crisis.

No Fair

Saturday morning, 7:33 AM, and my bloodshot eyes crack open at an explosion of sound near my door. After a long week, this my only morning to sleep in, yet the noise doesn't...stop. Experience in this host family of five children taught me to wear earplugs to bed, yet this cacophony still pierces my combination of pillows, plugs, and stubbornness. So I fall out of bed, pull myself upright on the dresser, and throw some workout shorts on. I am ready to murder the noise culprit. Door thrown open, and I see the two youngest boys at each other's throats on the floor. I try to ask "what's wrong" but it comes out more like "wzzz rnnng", so the kids ignore me. Ugh. My mind can't even think coherently, let alone verbally express my frustration at the selfishness of these little punks. They have a whole house to fight in, and they pick the one spot right in front of my door. Finally the truth comes out: "he stole my toy!" "No I didn't, it's mine anyways!" "No, not fair!" Fact: parents have to negotiate approximately 243 impromptu rulings on sibling justice every day. God bless 'em. 

So out of nowhere, the oldest brother swoops in. He snatches the toy, declares a smirking "...you have to share", and runs away. The younger brothers - understandably - join together in a chorus of "no FAAAAIR!" 

This is precisely the face the younger brothers made.

It's moments like these where kids make you simultaneously facepalm and belly laugh.