Happy Birthday to Me?

Even though it’s three months away, I am already pondering my next birthday, because yep, you guessed it – I’m turning 40.


Forty years old.

When the hell did THAT happen?  I swear, inside my head I vacillate between twenty-eight to thirty-two.  Don’t get me wrong.  I think my forties are going to be great, and my attitude about my thirties is ‘don’t let the door hit ya where the dog bit ya.”  I guess I am just feeling pressure to do something…great. Beyond ordinary, normal and healthy living.

Write and publish a book.

Start a charity.

Adopt an orphan.

By the way, I realize there’s a big part of this that’s ridiculous.  I get that having a healthy and happy family and marriage is something to celebrate. Really.  I also believe, however, that each and every one of us must contribute something beyond our own personal happiness – something that’s uniquely ours to give. 

There’s a part of me that feels like I’m running out of time to do this.

Anyway, so that’s what I’m thinking about these days.


4 responses to “Happy Birthday to Me?

  1. I have six months to go before the big day and yet, like you, I am not worried about the change in years. I do think that we each have something unique to give – a difference we can make. I am not sure how to figure out what that is, but it is there all the same. And after the age of 40 – perhaps we know ourselves and have matured enough to find that place and give back?

  2. You can adopt me, sponsor my law school years and write about how I fuck up my life every day. Seeeee, always ready to help.

  3. Hihi, 40. I remember when Blake was my first friend to turn 30 and you were like Thanks.

  4. Cheer up!
    The age of 40 can be great:

    We are getting old only in our head.

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