Metamorphosis

Ever had a time in your life where you felt alienated from just about everyone?

I don't know what it is, but I find that for the past few months or so, I've been like a character in one of those intense introspective novels (think Philip Roth, early Mordecai Richler and -- in the extreme -- Kafka) who cannot connect with others, who finds every normal human pursuit both laughably pitiful and unbearably touching.

I'd always thought that this (literary) state was a kind of midlife crisis that (fictional) men with no real-life domestic duties indulged in.

But now it's me waking up as a giant bug and listening to the "normal" people on the other side of the door. I mean this only figuratively, of course. My own family life is still the same warm, intimate and life-sustaining bubble it always was. But I always thought the happy family life was an extension of my increasing comfort and happiness in the larger world.

So what's up? Am I crazy, depressed, or is this my very own midlife crisis?

I feel a change is in the air, like I'm approaching something rather large as I walk with outstretched arms through a thick fog.

The weirdest part is that I kinda like it. Perverse.

I know this isn't regular coffee ring fare. But I got rid of my own blog, so you may have to put up with this every now and then. On the positive side, if I really am going crazy you can watch.