It’s not that 40 is old. 40 is practically the new 20, isn’t that what they say? Every so often I think, “I still feel like I’m 25,” until I’m actually around 25-year-olds and I realize I am so not 25.
With my sisters all in their 40s, some of them close to 50, I know that 40 isn’t old. 50 isn’t old. Hell, 60 doesn’t sound old to me. It’s just that I can now see 40 from where I sit and I don’t know how I got here. I’m close to 40? How did I get to be close to 40? Isn’t my mom still 40?
Even though I’m still trying to accept my age, I rang in my birthday in a great way. My oldest sister was going to come visit me and we were going to go to a comedy club with two of my friends. Well, we did go to a comedy club with two of my friends, but my sister surprised me by bringing my two other sisters and my mom with her. I went to open my door expecting one sister and all of them were there.
I don’t do surprises well. Well, it’s not that I don’t do them well, but I wish I handled them in a much cooler way. I’m the one who is so charmed and overwhelmed by the surprise that I cry. I got an award from the president of the Minnesota Library Association and I cried. An ex-co-worker told me when I left that if I ever needed a reference he would tell anyone how amazing I was. I walked away so he wouldn’t see me cry. And when my sisters and mom surprised me for my birthday, I cried.
We went to the Chatterbox Pub, had pizza and beer, played games, and then we headed to the comedy club with my friends and laughed the night away. It was a pretty good way to ring in my birthday, but I’m still closer to 40 than 30. Sigh.
(Picture = a birthday card from a friend. On the inside it read: “No reason. Happy birthday!”)