40 is the new whatever.

(source)

Today is the last day of my 30's. Exciting, no? I'm sure I'm excited. Really I am. Well people keep telling me that I should be excited, or depressed, or that today should be seen as a last hurrah. But I seem to have a bad case of the meh.

40 seemed so old when I was a kid. Now it just seems like, well, I'm not sure. It just is. Yet another day on the calendar. Another year done and dusted. I just don't get the hype. I don't feel older. Well my body does, but in my mind I'm still 20, or 12 (fart jokes still crack me up). Apparently, I'm supposed to be hitting my sexual prime. Okay, I can't even type that with a straight face. And if all my years of Oprah viewing taught me anything it was that I am now supposed to have some epiphany and come into my own as a woman. Bwahahahahaha.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not upset or depressed either. And it is better than the alternative. It just doesn't feel like that big a deal in the scheme of things.

The lack of care factor could be partially due to the fact that the last week or so has been more a hello 80 than hello 40 moment.

Last week I was officially confirmed as disabled. Bonus. Yesterday was spent checking out tilting wheelchairs named Karma (obviously I kicked A LOT of kittens in a previous life if that's my karma). YAY. This morning I was mocked by my dosette box and granny compression stockings. And to top it all off I found a new breast lump. Woo Hoo! Celebrate good times. Come On!

Though in truth I've been pretty meh about the whole 40 issue for quite a while. I don't like fuss. I particularly don't like fuss about me. And these days, well fuss is just plain exhausting.

Part of me would like to party like it's 1999. In 1999 I was throwing back rocket fuel shooters in a dodgy karaoke bar in Middle-of-Nowhere, Vietnam. Surrounded by drunk Asian businessmen whilst singing a fabulous, if I do say so myself, version of Fame. Now those were good times.

In reality I'd be happy with a nice meal, chooks and a goat. Yep chooks and a goat. Don't tell me I don't know how to party. Though now we are moving my chook and goat plan has gone on the back burner till we get to the new house at the end of the year.

My 30's have made me re-evaluate what's important. Not out of any deliberate attempt on my behalf to find myself or any other such psycho-babble. But when life hits you upside the head and throws you flailing into the abyss you are forced to really examine all your beliefs and what makes life worthwhile. And frankly arbitrary time measurements and socially expected celebrations aren't up there for me. Good friends, the love of your family and learning that happiness is a gift you can give yourself are where it's at for me.

So goodbye 30, hello 40. Or as it really feels, hello another day of breathing with a potential for macarons.

Cheers
Michelle :)

If you do want to celebrate for me, give out 40 smiles tomorrow. Give them to family, friends or strangers. Or give them to yourself. You just might make someone's day, or even your own. xx

Because I am a child of the 80's and I really can't get excited about tomorrow.