80 to 40

The final countdown started yesterday. Eighty days left until I finally turn 40. And NO, I am not taking it that well … in fact; the thought has been bothering me a lot since my last birthday.

You know, when you are 38 you are still a 30-something (and I've enjoyed my 30s so much!). When you turn 39 you are nowhere - too close to 40 and so far away from 30! It’s like living in limbo for 12 months …

Since moaning about it is not going to change anything (other than possibly adding a few more crow's feet to the collection), I’ve decided to dedicate a few of my future blog posts to the reasons why I should LOVE being in my 40s. Maybe I will manage to convince myself that it is not so bad after all and will hopefully end up self-brainwashed and hoping that I stay a 40something forever.

I should love being 40 because they say that life begins at 40.

It was some guy called Walter B. Pitkin who claimed this on a book he published back in 1932. The guy was 54 at the time, so I assume that 14 years of experience on being 40+ qualifies him as a guru on the subject.

I have not read the book, but if Mr. Pitkin was still alive, which he is not, I would love to ask him in a very Mafaldesque way:

If life really begins at 40, then why are we brought to this world so early?