The road to 40

I just turned 39. The real 39. I never lie about my age because I think people who try to say they are younger are idiots. I mean it you are 39 and try to tell people you are 30, they are going to think you look really crappy for 30. I earned each year and I am not ashamed of my age. Then comes FORTY. In 11.5 months I will be the dreaded 40. And how do I feel about that? I really feel that the 40s will be better than the 30s. I spent the 20's trying to sort out a career, figuring out how much of a goober I really was and then starting to have kids. The 30s were spent raising those kids to school age. Now they barely need us, except to run them from activity to activity. Not better, just different.

So the road to forty. I always pictured freaking out over turning 40. In 4th grade, we read a story called The Milestone. The family gave the mother a surprise party (so help me if anyone does that for me, I will kill them) because the mother was sad about turning 40. It focused on how half of her life was over. Pretty morbid crap for 4th graders to read. They way I see it, I'll have spent 40 years figuring stuff out, so the rest of my years will be smoother. This is my decade to shine. Let's just not talk about turning 50.

Sometime this weekend, or even later today, I am posting my goals for the year. I hope to reach 40 a healthier, happier, wealthier woman. Go me. Of course my first goal is to find my missing mouse so I can do some time suck games on Facebook.