Okay 40, I'm Ready....

In 5 hours and 36 minutes the bell will toll for the last time on the period in my life I like to call my 30s. My sister left me a message today asking me how it felt to be 39 years, 364 days and some hours and minutes old. She thought herself rather funny. Luckily I was tucked away in a theatre with CJ jumping at various scenes from a “Haunting In Connecticut”. Being scared always makes me feel better.

I took the week off work as my delicate constitution simply could not handle finding a “Lordy Lordy look who is 40” sign on my desk. Rather a large ego I have to assume that would happen in the first place, but I am fairly confident something would have happened.

THE day will be kept simple. As far as I know. IronMan has something planned in the afternoon but I don’t know what. Mom and Dad will be down for lunch at Phil’s BBQ and IronGirl will come as well if she can get the time off work.

“40 is the new 30”, “life begins at 40”, “you’re as young as you feel” and “it’s only a number” are a few of the positive messages that have been thrown my way; mostly by those not yet 40.

I am happy to say my mid-life crisis has not yet bloomed. Or at least I don’t think it has. There are no plans for a Mazda Miata, dating my secretary (not that I have one) or taking up extreme sports. Oh I have prepared myself physically as much as I can. Extra yoga classes, three 15 minute Total Turnaround facials, 3 moisture surge masks, no alarm clock, a new hair cut, neck waxing, COMPLETE manscaping and sleeping with eye pads on have all been crammed into the last two weeks.

Mentally I am ready to roll. Doing a quick check-up I am pleased as punch with my life. I have pants and have not been photographed while picking my nose (see earlier posting for details).

A career change would be nice, but into what, who can say? I would like to be one of those people who loves their job. I remember in grade school (uh-oh, it’s starting..”when I was your age….”) we used to sit down at the end of each year and fill out a scrap with mom. Every grade had a place for a picture and pocket that you put school report cards and good assignments in. Mind you, most of my home-economics projects wouldn’t fit in the book. Who won an award for sewing their name in pillows? No, not on, in. That’s right, I sewed a pillow in the shape of each letter of my name.

There was also a place to record what you wanted to be when you grew up. A quick review shows I aspired to be an actor, a cowboy, a firefighter…. I am sure if I had thought of it, sailor would have been there too. I can state unequivocally however, that insurance in any way, shape or form was never mentioned.

Kitkat recently noted on his blog that Auntie Mame was the genesis for one of my favourite expressions ~ “life is a banquent and most poor suckers are starving”. I think 40 will see me pulling my chair back up to the table. As long as it’s not a buffet, I hate buffets.