I was thinking today about my semi-intense reaction to that woman who hit my van, and our subsequent interaction.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that that interaction scared me. I know now that I was overreacting, but at the time, I thought what if this means that I'm not such a good guy, faithful husband, all of that? What if it means, like our neighbor who was a schoolteacher for years, I was just waiting for the opportunity to go off the reservation? And in a somewhat less tense but still scary thought Is this what a midlife crisis feels like? Because I never had one, never felt the need to buy a bright red sportscar or get divorced and marry someone thirty years younger, any of that. I wondered if my surprising reaction -- surprising to me, anyway -- was an indicator that I was primed to go nutty. I mean, I was even thinking that if I drive in that area again, I ought to keep an eye out for her car. White car. New York plates. Cracked right headlight housing. Though what I'd do if I actually saw her again, I don't know. It was the source of some daydreams, though. And those made me wonder about my motivations, all over again.
Now, I'm thinking don't sweat it. I suppose problems are possible, but it's unlikely. Got a long, solid track record, and I'm just not the kind of person to wig out, toss it all away. Though, you know? Much as I hate to say it, I'm thinking that next time an attractive you woman asks for a hug, maybe we ought to just shake hands. I'm clearly not emotionally ready for more.