It’s happened, you guys.
HOW HOW HOW HOW HOW HOW????
And while people keep on telling me that it’s no big deal and that forty-is-the-new-twenty-six-and-a-half-minus-two-days, I’m just going to go ahead and admit that my transformation into middle-agedom descended upon me like a big pile of Depends undergarments this week.
Behold the evidence:
- Every single morning this week I’ve had to make the choice between leftover birthday cake and oatmeal for breakfast. I’ve chosen oatmeal every single time.
- I forgot to wear my glasses to work for the first time ever on Monday. Which for reasons I can’t quite fathom, rendered me both blind and deaf. I spent the entire day screaming at my students, “WHO’S THAT TALKING??? I CAN’T SEE WHO’S TALKING! AND SPEAK UP! WHY’S EVERYONE TALKING SO QUIETLY TODAY!”
- One of my students gave me this huge heart-shaped box of chocolate for my birthday. And after my coworkers helped me empty the box of its contents, I kept the box because I could reuse it someday.
- I ran out of black dress socks earlier this week, so I’ve been wearing white athletic socks with my dress shoes. Granted my dress shoes are boots because MICHIGAN. But it doesn’t matter that nobody can see them, I KNOW THEY ARE THERE.
- One of my students tried to explain Snapchat to me and NOPE.
- I opened up my purse this morning to discover that there were no less than five balled up Kleenex in there.
So, yeah, I’m old.
But on the bright side, I’ve found that forty has lit a fire under my butt that I very rarely experience. And I swear to you I’m not talking about hemorrhoids.
I’ve decided this is the year that I’m finally going to finish that book that I’ve been talking about finishing for the last, umm, FOREVER. And, rather, than just talking about it (like I’ve been doing for, ummm, FOREVER), I’ve actually been working on it — spending an hour every afternoon after work in the library, typing away. Even though I’m exhausted and not at all convinced that I have a book’s worth of stories inside of me and all I want to do is go home and eat dip for dinner.
I’m also determined to make this the year that I finally pay off the credit card debt I’ve only half-heartedly been chipping away at. Even though it’s going to mean working all the way through summer like normal, non-teacher people and I ain’t about that life.
Heck, I may even consider dating again. HAHAHAHAHA. Nevermind.
So maybe 40 isn’t all that bad, after all.
Now if only I could find my glasses…
What age are you freaked out about turning? WHAT’S THAT YOU SAID? WHY CAN’T I HEAR YOU??? SPEAK UP ALREADY!