I turned 40 today. Call me a poor sport, but I specifically hoped for no kind of party this year. Those black "Over the Hill" balloons and "You're really old" jokes thoroughly annoy the crap out of me.
Further — cliché of clichés — I don't want to be reminded that I am both way "older than I feel" and (unfortunately for grown-up's around me, especially Mrs. OccupationDad) way older than I act (i.e., about 12 years old).
Moreover, I ought to have got way more done by the time I'm forty, but I am slow and inefficient.
It's all summarized and symbolized by my anxiety dream the night before last. Many odd things occurred, as happens in dreams. I was on a trip, so was Mrs. OccupationDad, but we were in separate cars. I took a "detour" just for a change of scenery, but forgot to tell her. Then I was all worried I wouldn't catch up with her at the right juncture …blah blah … The road went through a town and then through a courthouse. Then I was on foot going through the courthouse. Then somehow I was in this long public meeting. Soon it was almost over and everyone wanted to get it over with, but then I had something to say and did. But I was all stressed about getting it said while not pissing everyone off because they wanted to go. And the sidetracks when on and on. Delay, inefficiency, stress.
The kicker was when I was waiting around downtown for … something …I was just relieving "it" wasn't waiting for me, for once. I became contemplative and just began thinking, "I just can't believe I'm forty years old and I'm just now finally graduating from high school. I've really squandered my time." (Pathetic existential sigh.)
Yeah, well, that should make me feel good right? It could be that bad. Or worse.
Well, a new era dawns today. It's the first day of the rest of …yatta, yatta, yatta …
Everything is about to change. S-t-a-r-t-i-n-g . . . . . . . . . . . now !