So, I am officially 40 now, even though I started celebrating 3 weeks early. And, to my surprise, I have been carded four times when attempting to purchase alcohol in that time, and one of those times the young whippersnapper cashier at Kroger actually disputed my ID – I said, “No, I just had short hair then,” and he said, “I know this is you, but there is no way you were born in 1974. I was thinking 1982 tops, but more like 1985.” I also have had a bunch of people randomly comment positively on how great I look. I can only put it down to the fact that I am wearing heavy bangs and they cover my forehead wrinkles?
In other news, professional things proceed apace. I am totally overwhelmed and busy, but all goes well.
And then there is the whole “dating two guys” thing. Footloose and The Mailman remain in the picture, and I’ve been out on three dates a piece with them. Of those three dates per suitor, I have cooked dinner for each once. I think they are both great, in equal and opposite ways. One is very cool, and he inspires me to be cooler. One is very relaxed, and he inspires me to be very relaxed. Those are just two examples. Who the fuck knows.
But if you would have told me that I would be dating two great guys and feeling great about my professional life and have a great crew of friends and feel like there are too many great things to do to the extent that I am exhausted (though righteously so) at 40 years old, say, when I was 38? I would not have believed you.
Turns out, 40 is the most fabulous age ever. First day of school is tomorrow. I should be asleep, but alas, I got totally off schedule over the summer. The good news is my first class is at 11 AM tomorrow, and I got totally ready for Day 1 and 2 when I went into the office on Saturday.
Random thing: If you’re not watching The Witches of East End on lifetime, and if you were a Buffy fan? YOU SHOULD BE.