The big 4-0.
A new decade.
It didn't bother me at all. Which is probably because I love birthdays so much. (Well, I love MY birthday, not birthdays in general. Except maybe Rob's, since I make such a big deal about it. But my birthday? LOVE my birthday.)
So I was so pre-occupied with Birthday Spectacular Weekend (BSW for short), people's incredulous faces when I told them I was turning 40, and telling myself that I was still 29, that I didn't have time to even think about it.
Funny thing about age, though. While you may feel and possibly look younger than you truly are, your body is pretty damn accurate with its calculations.
And my body isn't quiet with its assessments.
So I listened to what my body was saying.
And this is my 40:
Because while I may be dressed like I'm 32, with 34-year-old-looking hair and a 38-year-old husband, when we're sitting in a restaurant, I'm trying to keep a shred of dignity holding a menu at arm's length like I'm 80.
(When did they start using such small and illegible fonts on menus?)
But I embraced my near-blindness and the idea of reading glasses because, hey, something new to shop for! I set off to find the lowest possible magnification for reading glasses (.75) without much luck. But I found those beauties above in +1.00 and I'm quite happy. In fact, this old lady doesn't look half bad in glasses.
Now, if I could only remember to use them, I'll be all set.
(But they don't fit well in my little going-out clutches, so...)