A week ago I hit the big 46. I have never been one to be bothered by age. It's just a number, and honestly most people, most days, still feel like they're 20. You may feel 20 as in you don't know everything yet. You may feel 20 when you grab one more drink or one more piece of pizza, like your metabolism still fires up like clockwork every day. But 46 has definitely made me think a little more. As a wise friend once said, at 45 you can still claim being closer to 40. At 46 you're looking to 50.Looking to 50, do I wish for my 20s body? Sometimes. It was pretty awesome even after giving birth to 1 kid. By the time the 2nd kid came at 25, the weight was harder to lose. Sleep was harder to capture. Overall still, the body I have now is pretty ok. I can live peacefully with it.
What is the issue with looking to 50?
Looking at 50 seems to be "grown up". As a grownup do I still want my bedroom to be pieces of unmatched crap jumbled together? Nope. Do I want an unorganized, unproductive closet? Nope. Messy yard? Double nope. Corn dogs? Fuck no. Okay, maybe. But only the truly great ones that are worth an hour road trip and perfected in a 60 year old diner full of nostalgic decor. This may be the year when "enough" isn't the goal. Perfection isn't the goal either. The goal is to remove or fix whatever doesn't give me peace, and have the cake. Just not all of the cake, and not all of the time.
Here's to another year!
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