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This Is 40

As you may have noticed, I’ve been dragging my size 10 feet on writing the first blog post of 2013.  Why?

I’m in denial.

This is the year I turn 40 and it’s ALL I can think about.  All.  I.  Can.  THINK.  About.  It’s no longer “someday” or “eventually,”  it’s THIS YEAR.

Shit just got real.

When I was 20, I knew I’d be amazing at 40.  You would have loved future me (but secretly hated future me).  I was thin and beautiful and a CEO and rich and married to a boyishly-handsome man well over 6’ tall and a mother to two adorable blonde-haired blue-eyed cherubs and we all lived together in a marshmallow castle on the clouds.

Ah, youth.

When I look at my life today – on the brink of this terrifying age -- I feel many emotions about the new year.  Happy is not one of them.  I know what you’re thinking – it beats the alternative!  Age is just a number!  Forty is fabulous! 

Whatever.  I’m turning 40 and I can whine if I want to.

I don’t care about the physical aging part.  I’ve always looked younger than I am.  Most of my hair is still brown (pick a shade, any shade!).  I don’t really have wrinkles.  The few sad lonely eggs I have left in my ovaries that are rotting by the nanosecond certainly gives me pause, but I think what’s REALLY bugging me about facing a new decade is the disastrous state my life is in. 

I’m talking yellow caution tape, hazmat suit, toxic landfill-level disaster area.

My home?  A ridiculously overpriced rental – at this rate, I’ll never own.  Career?  Stuck in middle management – at this rate, I’ll never advance.  Relationship?  Single as single gets – at this rate, I’ll never marry.  Kids?  Negative – at this rate, I’ll never be a mom. 

I can’t even be a proper spinster!  I hate cats.

I’m halfway through life and nowhere near where I’m "supposed" to be.  I must be defective.  Just walk down the street – anybody with a left hand has a wedding ring on it.  Flip on the TV – anyone with a bank account owns a home.  I have a left hand!  AND a bank account (full of cobwebs).

Why can’t I get my act together? 

Is it bad luck?  I don't think so.  It's because I make bad decisions.  Not "gas station sushi" type bad decisions, but right up there.  What’s worse, there are actual moments I can pinpoint when my life went off the rails.  If only my vision was as good as my hindsight, I’d be on easy street today (and have avoided a very regrettable perm).

I know I need to take the punch out of turning 40.  I need to do more of what makes me happy, and hope the rest falls into place.  I need to start making better decisions.  I've only felt this way once before.  Not shockingly, it was when I was turning 30.  At the time, I thought I needed to make changes in my home, my career, and my relationships -- s
o I did! 

Now, I’ve got 8 months to work on basically the same things.  Again.  Let’s see how far I can get by August… and if it's not meant to be, there’s nothing a bottle of birthday cake-flavored vodka and a week in bed can’t fix. 

An old lady needs her rest.

So, how have YOU handled milestone birthdays?  By kicking up your heels or by kicking and screaming?

tags:  holidays


Anonymous said...

kickingand screaming. i can relate.

Susan B. said...

I feel the same way!!!!!

chris said...

all i have to say is YOLO babygirl. do what makes you happy. i had all the same issues and most got fixed after i was turned the big 4-0.

Pamela said...

I have all those things and I'm 42 and I'm not happy either. Want a Xanax? ;)

Anonymous said...

I am turning 40 this year. I have two great kids, a house, a really good job and a supportive and fabulous husband. Most days, I would give it up to have my own place in the city.

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