At least, I hope to be all those things as I cross over from thirty-something to forty-something. I have no problem with turning 40, I’ve actually be saying I’m 40 for the past month or so, though it’s still a few days away. I would like to say 40 is only a number, but it represents so much more to me. It is a turning point, of sorts. A new beginning. A time where I put up or shut up. A realization that my thirties flew by and likely so will my forties, so I’d better make the years count. Make them memorable.
I’m at a strange, exciting and new place in my life and turning 40 is only part of the equation. I have plans and projects to work on, I have dreams and aspirations to fulfill. There is so much on the horizon right now, but I’m not anxious to get there too soon. I’m working on some new things that I will share when I return from London. One project, in particular, will better explain my fascination with turning 40 and the aging process in general. I’m excited about the future. I’m excited about being me. I am excited about turning 40.
I hope I feel this way when I turn 50.