It is March 10th. I have one exactly more month of being 30-something. I never in my wildest teenage dreams imagined being this old. I could see myself being 26 and after that things seemed grey and hopeless.* I’m actually a teeny smidge excited. Mostly because I think I look pretty good for 40. I don’t know what all the women who lie about being younger are thinking. I’ve found that if you say you are older than you look, people really slather on the compliments, Which would you rather have?
I am 39 and that’s what I tell people:
“you’re almost 40? No way! You look fantastic!”
I am 39 and tell people I’m 32:
[thinking: “Boy, she looks terrible for her age.”]
I’m going on cruise for my birthday with a bunch of my girlfriends. I’m trying to lose 20 lbs. in the next 30 days but I have the niggling feeling that I might not be successful. Not that it matters because I plan on eating A LOT over my birthday and gaining it all back.
*I wish I could tell my teenage self, who felt so unattractive and untalented, that at 40 I would totally be hitting my stride. Late bloomer, I guess.