40

Just now, I realized that exactly one month from today, God willing, I will turn 40.

This is supposed to be a monumental event, and I am sure it will be. The party guests have been invited to the mostly family (in more ways than one!) gathering, and I am already expecting a slew of “gag gifts” from those in attendance. The lil’-kid side of me is hoping for a few good gifts, too, but I’m already figuring on lots of over-the-hill-related stuff.

It’s OK. I can take it. Never let it be said that I have lost my sense of humor.

I do hate letting go of my thirties, though. I mean, when I was in my twenties, I never imagined that I would enjoy anything associated with that decade. Something about anything thirty-related just seemed so ... so ... boring, or something. And now, everything associated with being “in my forties” ... well, to be quite frank, it just sounds so old.

And I know it’s not. Yet, for the most part, many of the friends I get to hang out with on a regular basis are “in their forties,” so all of the aches and pains and whatevers that they have complained about over the last few years, I have been able to shrug my shoulders and give them the old, “How would I know? I haven’t even hit 40 yet!”

(Yes, secretly, they all hate me. But I’m OK with that.)

: )

Not sure why, but this song is going through my head:

40

I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry
He brought me up out of the pit
Out of the miry clay

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
How long to sing this song
How long to sing this song
How long ... how long ... how long
How long ... to sing this song

He set my feet upon a rock
And made my footsteps firm
Many will see
Many will see and fear

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song
How long to sing this song
How long ... how long ... how long
How long ... to sing this song

— U2

Speaking of that Irish band:

I love St. Patrick’s Day but didn’t really do anything extraordinary to celebrate yesterday. Other than wearing my green Shamrocks 9 T-shirt and my green-’n’-white boxers and my green Mardi Gras beads. Should have managed to find me some Harp, but ... I did not. Prolly would not have been able to drink it, anyway, not if I wanted to make it through another extended workday today.

Did I mention how glad I am that this is Friday??!