Today is my 40th Birthday....and that is the last time we will talk about that number...it no longer exists. I was good with 20. I got married that year. I was good with 30 but 30 wasn't good to me. I had just had a baby a few months before and then the day after my 30th birthday, I had to have my gallbladder removed. But I survived! This one...not so much. This is old (I am not trying to hurt anyone's feeling, I promise). But seriously, when you reach this milestone....some dreams and hopes and other things just aren't possible anymore.
For instance, I can't be a fireman or an astronaut. Okay, so I didn't really want to be either of those but I might still would have like the chance. I can't be a supermodel. No one wants to see America's Next Saggy Boobs and Jigglely Butt. I am too old to join most Olympic teams...hahaha...sorry...like I am an athlete of any kind. But still. I am too old and too tired to go back to school so I have to stick with the degree I have and right now it isn't my favorite.
I hurt when I get out of bed in the mornings, I hurt when I tried to get up off of the floor. The boys help me across the street (for which they nearly got a butt whooping) and I am pretty sure I got an AARP brochure in the mail.
I can't can't wear leggings because old people shouldn't wear them. I can't wear tank tops because my muscle tone is NOT well defined. I still wear my High Heels and will never ever give them up, but...my feet hurt a little more each time I wear them.
Don't get me wrong. There are a few things that are great for the over 39 crowd. I can say what I feel out loud because old people have that right. I get to eat dinner at 5 pm with the rest of the seniors. I get 8 hours of sleep because I go to bed at nine pm.
So for my friends who have turned 40...I am sorry...I feel your pain. For my friends who are almost there...start lying to yourself and preparing for the great depression. I am surviving this traumatic experience with tequila and by telling myself that I am 29....again.