I think I may have unplugged a year from my machine. All of a sudden, I find myself rounding up my age. I am telling people that I am 40 when I know darn well that I won't turn 40 until November. I have been doing it since I started playing squash with 26 year olds, I think. But I suspect I have always had a tendency to round up. Just, I never saw myself rounding up my own life.

What am I missing by sliding past 39? What am I going to do when I do actually get to 40? Have I somehow contrived to deny an entire year of my life? I wonder, can you do that? Can you decide that the year doesn't count and thus, by fiat, make it go *poof* and disappear? Truthfully, so far, 39 has been filled with exceptional stresses -- my mother's cancer, the firing of a nanny, the Viking Bride re-inventing herself as a stay at home mother, becoming a partner at my firm, dealing with a huge fall out at an organization I am a member of (I never really wrote about this and am probably not likely to, let's just say it approached the highest levels of suckitude) -- but does that mean I should deny it exists? I suppose I really shouldn't, should I?

Besides, what could the hurry possibly be to get to 40? Sure, I am going to throw a big party (jointly with the Viking Bride) but, truth be told, I don't really like to throw parties that much.

Maybe it is because I feel my body creaking and aching more after the morning workout. Maybe that's why I am rounding up -- because my body feels like it is at least 40 years old, if not a few years more.

Either way, I have to stop this.

I am, after all, only 39 years old and there is a long way to go until I get to 40. I hope.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:41 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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