Birthdays.....Aaack

I’m really not much of a birthday person and almost always approach January 31st as I would any other day. And this "no big deal" attitude toward my birthday has really started since I turned 40, because let’s face it, it’s not as if my life is really going to change for the day - - It is not as if I can just lie around and eat Ben & Jerry’s Brownie Batter ice cream and celebrate the fact that I’m one year closer to qualifying for Medicare.

Perhaps contemplating, on the 10th anniversary of my 39th birthday, things like…. how long will it be before I’m required to cut my hair short and have it fixed at the beauty shop once a week? And when will I be too old to call my kids and sing silly songs with them, or walk like an Egyptian? When will I finally feel like the adult my age suggests I should be? Because most of the time, I feel pretty dang immature for my age.

Fortunately, I have my physical body to remind me of what my mind hasn’t yet accepted. For example, I find I can no longer wear the fitted, light-colored t-shirts and snug ribbed turtlenecks I used to wear with equally snug jeans without also wearing a vest or jacket to hide the Michelin demon residing around my midsection.

I was pleasantly surprised to have these show up at my office…thanks K! I guess the 10th anniversary ain’t so bad.




Because after next year, in the profound words of Raymond Ned, “It’ll all be over but the cryin”.



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