I am freaking out a bit. I am turning 40 this week. Incredible Four Zero. Fuck. Or...make that a double fuck. Fuck, fuck.
Never before did I worry about my age. But the Four really bugs me. I don't want that, ya know. I wanna be thirty (not twenty!) for the rest of my life. I wanna look and feel young and I really hate all that grey hair I regularly pull from my skull. Forty sounds so grown up. Like you should have control over the stuff your adult life consists of. Like taxes or insurances. Building a house and planting a tree. I have done neither of that. Well, we obviously do taxes and insurances, but I pretty much suck at organizing the papers. That's the ugly truth.
I am (nearly) forty and I love the colour pink and all things glitter. I enjoy YA romance and wear pink Converse. I still listen to YA audio books when driving to work and I think that Lego Friends play sets are so freaking cool.
Is this how forty is supposed to be? I feel like I am not grown up at all. Although I sometimes sound like my mom when arguing with my kids. ;o)
Please tell me that my best time is yet to come. I need some heads up here to not completely loose my shit these next days. BUT to make it a bit fun, I am planning my own very pink birthday party. Pink cupcakes, glitter balloons and all. Yeah, I am so grown up.