40 days till 40

Not that I'm counting or anything.  Clearly.

Sigh.

Really, this age thing is trippy. Wow, maybe I'm actually turning 50 dropping words like "trippy".  I didn't think it would bother me to turn 40.  Like I am above such petty things like age. I have literally said, outloud, "Dude (or probably the name of the person unlucky enough to be in conversation), my Mom died at 43...I'm like so beyond the 40 drama!"  or "I am so not one of those people who care about turning 40".

Turns out I'm totally full of crap.

But then, if you know me, this comes as no surprise.

So, ya.  I'm freaking out.

One pressing reason is that it seems like the warranty on my body is up.  Teeth, skin, blood pressure, body are all looking their age and starting to revolt in their own creative ways.  Stupid body that I have done such a bad job of taking care of that now it has no other options but to look exactly the way I've been treating it!

Good news is that I don't really have the "I should have accomplished this by now..." list playing in my head.  You know that list of things you wanted by 40 that told the world you had reached the Xanadu of achievement and success.  Perhaps I could have been a bugle virtuoso. I suppose we will never know.  Pretty sure we all have things we hoped to attain...like fewer piles of miscellaneous things that need to put away on the top of my dresser, on the ottoman, on the kitchen table...pretty much everywhere I look.

Okay that last paragraph probably reveals two terrible qualities of mine. 1) I am not achievement oriented and 2) I had no direction in my 30's.  Crap.  Maybe 40 is like this mirror in the fun house...the reflection looks warped and strange but everything else looks the same.  You look away and look back only to realize that it's you as you are.

Or then again, maybe not.  What do I know...I was meant to rock the bugle.

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