There's an email lurking at the bottom of my inbox. It's all about starting over.
I haven't deleted it because it seems as though every conversation I'm having has something to do with that very topic.
This email linked to some very interesting pieces where women, mainly, discussed how, at some point in their lives, they knew it was time for a change.
For example, former first lady Michelle Obama admits she was once sitting in a sky-rise office, doing legal work that wasn't fulfilling, when it hit her.
"I couldn't help but ask - what's it all for?" she said.
"If there's some part of you that's questioning your career, it's important to listen to that. Our hearts sometimes know ourselves better than our minds do."
That about sums it up, sister.
It seems everyone I know, at least those about my age, are doing a helluva lot of questioning. When we meet up the conversation always turns to "what's next"?
Our children are leaving home, perhaps our partners are leaving too, our careers don't have the same shine they once did, or ever did, and we're wondering what to do next?
Some friends have already retired, others are thinking about it, many of us are wondering if it's too late to make a complete career change in our mid-50s.
We've watched as friends have fallen ill, and some have died, and we ache as our own bodies remind us of every passing day.
And all this leads to us thinking about the idea that if we only have 30-odd years left, is this how we want to spend them?
I posed this question on social media the other night and the response blew me away. More than 250 people liked the post. More than 150 bothered to post a comment.
With respect to this fabulous new community I've found, I'm not going to divulge too much, but it seems as though there are a lot of us who are asking the same question.
And a lot of us are looking for answers.
There were responses from men and women, people with no children, and grandparents, single people, married and remarried people, people from rural and regional areas, and the big cities.
Many were happy to disclose how they made the next step, many shared secret dreams - one wise woman declared them her RFDs, her realistic future dreams. I love that.
People recommended career changes, moving to the country, volunteering, taking up study, taking up golf, joining the CWA, finding a new husband. Some of those things appeal. Others not so much.
But it's about more than how to fill my hours. I'll get that part right.
For me the big question is how do you know when it's time to make the change? Perhaps it's like Michelle Obama said, perhaps you do need to listen to the heart.
But the head first. Think about finances and responsibilities. Have you got those sorted out? Can you afford to take the next step? Can you pare back your new life so money doesn't matter so much? I hate the idea that the next stage might be as bound to money as all the working years have been. But that's the reality of life.
I love the idea of the RFDs. I know what mine are.
I want to get a golf handicap and to get it as low as I can. I've been volunteering my whole adult life but I want to get a regular gig going. I want to pimp my little vegie patch. Think more about leading a sustainable life. I want to stop feeling guilty about sitting in the afternoon sun with a cuppa and a good book, every day. I want to travel.
I actually had grand plans to head to Scotland for a sabbatical. Work in a pub. Find myself a big caber-tossing man in a kilt who'd pour me a whisky late of an evening and tell me he canna possess my soul without losing his own. (Note: stop watching Outlander.) Instead I might have to settle for a house down the coast, and a man who might shake the sand off my towel. It's all about expectations.
And I guess that's it. The expectation of what this next stage might offer, what choices might be made. It makes me nervous and excited and I can't wait.
(Note to editors: meanwhile I love what I'm doing, and plan to kick on - for a while at least.)