Six days ago, I turned 40. It pains me to write this. I know that 40 is the new 30 (or the new 20 if you're Courtney Cox), but for whatever reason, I was not ready to begin a new decade. Don't get me wrong, I love my life, I love my family, I am blessed beyond reason. . . I know all of this, but I still don't want to be 40 (yikes!)
A few months back, I was reading an interview with Laurie Halse Anderson. When asked how she so effectively wrote for teens, she said something to the effect that inside she was still young. She commented that there were days when she looked into the mirror and was shocked by the "old" face looking a back at her. I completely understood. . . I feel so young, how can I have so many wrinkles?
So where does this whining lead me? Nowhere. I had a fabulous birthday - somehow, there are no pictures of my parties (picture posted is of flowers from a dear friend), but they were varied, and wonderful. I have a fabulous life, I will enjoy each day and purpose to "live in the moment". This is my 40 year resolution. . . And maybe someday (hopefully soon), I will have a night where I do not wake up in the wee hours of the morning with the crazy "you are 40, you are 40. . ." chant repeating itself in my head. . .
