I turn 40 this year. In 10 month and 4 days to be exact. We often kid, it is the obligatory thing to do, about the horrors of it. Truth be told though, I am not upset. At all. In the least bit. Come December 29, 2016, I will get up and have what I am sure will be a normal day. There will be no wailing, hair pulling (well, no more than usual), sobbing in an empty tub surrounded by wine bottles. At the most it has made me more reflective on how I have lost myself a little bit. Okay, a lot. Like Grand Canyon size a lot. But alas, I am more of a “Let’s fix this shit.”kinda gal and not a “My life has been wasted, I might as well pick out a grave plot and call it a day.” lady. I do have a list of what I want to accomplish. Some of it is trivial. And some it is huge. And some of it is private and not appropriate to share. Boundaries people, believe it or not I do have them. But first, a pros and con list of turning forty. Because I love lists.
- Random hairs that only seem to show up when I am nowhere near a pair of tweezers. Seriously, WTF.
- My cute little grey hairs have literally over night turned into a streak that would make Sooki’s character in X-Men look tame.
- The lack of bladder control has reached an all time high. I fear sneezes, coughing, laughing, and shopping in the far back of Target.
- Mammograms and colonoscopies have become more of a reality and less something your mom had to do.
- Metabolism. I can’t even with that lazy bitch.
- An increased awareness of important adulty stuff, like retirement plans and something kids these days call a credit score. Neither of which I have.
- Everything hurts in the morning. I have a sneaky suspicion that I look like Danny Devito’s Penguin as I try to move around before my joints are loosen up.
- I have to dig my ID out less and less. Which is a good thing, I kinda don’t even know where it is right now.
- I literally do not give two shits what people think of me anymore. You either like me or you don’t. My dance card is full. I am happy to write your name on the back but really, I am not going to chase you. I don’t have the desire, time, or energy to win people over.
- Bathing Suits. You would think this would be in the con section, you know with saggy 40 year old boobs and all but nope. I officially have joined the “It is okay to not look great in a suit” club so there is way less stress. While y’all are worrying about your ass in that two piece, I am having a blast swimming with my kiddos and sneaking alcohol in coffee mugs into the community pool.
- People assume you have your act together. Naturally, how does a person get to 40 without getting it together. I mean, I totally don’t. I walked into Kroger’s the other day with no bra on and bedhead to buy cheese and a chocolate milk. But it is nice to know that people think I do.
- My car insurance rate isn’t too bad.
- I am sure there is more, but I am a little hungover right now so I can’t think too hard. My brain cells hate me.
So there ya go. This is going to be a two part blog. It would be terribly long otherwise. So I have chopped it in half and saved the other half for this weekend. I can only assume most of you read this while using the bathroom and I have read that it isn’t good for you to sit on the toilet for too long. You will get the ‘roids (ooh maybe that should be in the con section). So I am doing this for your own good. But please feel free to comment and let me know if you have any pros or cons to add. I would love to hear where others stand on this age thang.
4 Comments on A Promise To My 40 Year Old Self – Part 1
I would like to add on to the pro of not giving a shit what people think; you will spend waaay less money on makeup. 🙂
I totally feel you on this. There is nothing graceful about aging, at least in my experience. BUT, I finally get that it’s good to be me. There is that.
Pro and con
Because people assume I have my act together (mostly just because I popped out 3 babies and they all show up at school on time every day in spite of me) they cut me a lot of slack when I mess up. Unfortunately, the slack they cut me makes me lower my bar and what I deliver is the slacker version of what it could actually be. (And I don’t care so much because I’m almost 40.)
This is a personal pro as someone who is very short. As I’m getting older, I don’t get mistaken for a child anymore. In my twenties I got yelled at for leaving a middle school campus where I worked because they thought I was a student. That would certainly not happen today.