This morning at about 8 or so, I started writing a post about turning 40 and how, after a year of moaning and groaning that started with the discovery that turning 39 was a horrible shock of the worst kind, suddenly I'm thrilled to be this age. But then the phone started ringing and the emails and Facebook messages came in and I had these other things to do and here we are at 10 pm and I'm home from being with friends since 4pm, and suddenly I'm beat. (I didn't just turn 20, after all - of course 10pm seems a perfectly respectable time to admit to being tired. Especially after staying up 'til 2 most nights for most of the year so far.)
But I wanted to write something here, and let anybody peeking around here wondering if I got over my whining from last year know that yes, in fact, I did. It was a most delightful day and I have decided that being this age is exactly the age I want to be. Go figure.
Now I'm actually thinking of grabbing a good book and heading off to bed. Which would feel pretty decadent and self-indulgent right about now.
Cheers, ya'll! And for those who called and wrote and even those who sang to me, thank you. I love you. Mean it, too. (And "little" brother, I got your message and your email and I'm about to call you back. I don't know WHAT you were on when you called, because that was one seriously interesting message, but yes, I did get it. Thank you; we'll talk shortly. And I love you back.)