This is a shortie written when I turned 39 and as I’m rapidly approaching turning 40 freakin’ 1, I found it charming.
Bon anniversaire à moi!! (HBD to me!) Actually, more like Happy Old Day to me….39….officially the age at which my birthday stops being fun. If you’re older than 39 I ask that you unroll those eyes …. I know I’m not menopausal….but for someone who has thoroughly LIVED her 30s, the mere thought of the upcoming 40 is just too much.
I spent my birthday as any other 39 year old woman would …. dancing on top of a bar wearing a tube top. …pause for reaction…..J/K that was my 20s. Can I get a WOOT WOOT for the 20s~ a decade of partying, making horrific relationship mistakes, struggling through grad school, barely paying your bills, and wading through the deep depression when you realize that you’re a real live adult now and you need to get your frenchin’ life together.
No, this is my 39th birthday and in my late 30s I know how to party like a real rockstar….on a 7:15 a.m. flight to Atlanta……..with a toddler….on a plane……in coach….hopped up on Dramamine because in my late 30s, turning left makes me nauseous…..with a toddler….
Update: Shockingly, turning 40 was actually kind of a breeze. I mean it helped that my husband, friends, and family spoiled me rotten with flowers, gifts, and love. We went fancy bowling and then ate 40 pounds of cake at Hugo’s Frog Bar downtown. Cake, bowling, and Miller Lite….made turning 40 epic. And while I did not have the epic 40th birthday bash that I have been planning in my head for um 39 years, I loved everything about my 40th birthday.
Coming soon….a reasonable reaction to turning 40 freakin’ 1.
Midlife Yogi 