Forty

Forty is the "new thirty." This means I should be feeling thirty, but I promise you, I don't feel thirty at all. I feel exactly forty. And it's not just physically feeling forty. It's emotionally feeling forty. There are people where I work who graduated from college in the past two years. Me? I am looking forward to my twentieth college reunion in the next two years.

While filling out a survey earlier in the week, I noticed that this would be the last week that I could check off the box next to 35-39. Starting tomorrow, I hit the 40-44 check boxes. Mental note: Stop filling out surveys.

Long ago, when I was in high school, or maybe even earlier, I had a vivid dream. I was driving a car, and it was a hatch back of sorts. I stopped in front of a house in the suburbs, and I got out, unlocked the hatch, and in the back were bags of groceries. I remember the hatch tugging my arm up, and I remember looking around. I woke up, not finding out where I was going with all those groceries.

Sometimes, when I find myself in that exact situation (which isn't often, since we don't have a hatchback, and I don't often get the groceries), I say "I'm living the dream." Tomorrow, on my fortieth, I'll have to remind myself of this. Often.