I'm reading a book right now, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs, in which the 45-year-old father of the protagonist is still having trouble figuring out what he wants to do with his life. He's an ornithologist, but it seems to be more of a hobby than a vocation; he writes books but never completes them, and his unfinished manuscripts languish in a locked desk drawer. He fears his wife will leave and that his son won't be proud. He's lost. He's a relatable character, I think. Haven't we all felt this way?