Lordy, lordy look who’s forty.
Ahem, that would be me.
As in now.
As in I’m officially in my forties. Does this mean I’m middle aged? And also is forty the new thirty? Or the new twenty? Because although I liked my thirties, I’ve had enough. And if it’s the new twenty?
I mean I’m definitely not having an it’s my party, I’ll cry if I want to moment. But it’s certainly not a Yay, I’m finally old enough to get shitfaced kind of day either. I will say this though – it’s still a good riddance to those deranged twenties – don’t bring them up cuz I will deny all involvement and also stop speaking to you kind of a milestone.
We were going to quietly celebrate out at a fancy restaurant this weekend with some friends but nothing was coming together mostly because Easter took its sweet time getting here. So it’s postponed.
I wasn’t crushed. Didn’t feel friendless and unspecial like I would have had Shaune not organized something substantial on my thirtieth. Frankly I was a little relieved. I don’t like being the centre of attention that way.
I’ll wait here while you roll your eyes.
Considering I’m one thin cotton nightie away from being completely naked here on my blog. You know, practically begging you to pay attention to me.
Seriously though, there’s this pressure to have some whopping shin-dig, a considerable gathering, where roomfuls of friends jump out from behind large pieces of furniture. The truth is, I don’t think I have a roomful of friends. Maybe a powder room full. Okay, I’m being modest. Midsized bedroom at best. And half of them live out of town. Does such an occasion warrant travel plans and vacation days?
And also, I need time to think about this. What do I do now? What do forty year-old people do? I quit smoking four years ago and rarely drink more than a glass of wine in one sitting and have always flossed regularly. I could stand to add more calcium to my diet and possibly I need to get a mammogram. Okay I definitely need to get a mammogram. And stop watching Law & Order re-runs.
Truth be told I’m on a four week cycle - of needing to dye my hair. Well that’s exaggerating, it’s probably more like three weeks but I can hide the gray in that last week with strategic pony-tailing. Also, I’m in dire need of constructive undergarments.
Equally true my friends: I am content. I have everything I want. You know what I mean?
Roof over my head and a steady job.
Not to mention the fact that I live in a peaceful country that empowers women, minorities, gay and lesbian people to live their truths and be who they are in a mostly supportive environment. I have the freedom to raise my kids with whatever beliefs, faith and values I decide.
That’s really something when you think about it.
So I don’t think it sucks to be forty today. I’m feeling quiet and contemplative. I’m thinking about Matthew. I’m counting the goodness I’m blessed with. And I’m sending all of you warm thoughts for taking the time to read my birthday post.
Please go visit Shell and read some of the other people pouring their hearts out today.