Oh, I could put my two cents in about Jimmah Carter’s potential second term, about the fact that the GOP has completely forfeited the right to criticize the Democrats for their fiscal irresponsibility, or having my server suffer a dictionary attack today. I could post about a Canadian “honor” killing, and a liberal who is willing to admit he feels safe attacking Christianity but is afraid to speak his mind about Islam, or the fact that my daughter’s car flipped out. (The locks just started continuously locking themselves like something out of a Stephen King novel and she had to physically hold the lock button to the side in order to get out of the car.) To add injury to insult she bashed her knee some kind of way and can barely walk on it. So if elevation and ice don’t help in the next 30 minutes we may have to go to the ER… I could write about any or all of that but instead I’m going to mull over the fact that yet another of my daughter’s friends is having a baby, and wonder how I got so old.
Oh, she’s legit – she was married last summer. So I can’t even console myself with the idea that this is not the natural order of things. It didn’t bother me to turn 30, or 35. And now that I’m 39, I really don’t feel stressed about 40. The numbers don’t bother me. But sometimes these milestones are a bit of a shock.
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