39 and Counting

Loads of Facebook messages last night and this morning. Extremely useful gifts from the gals in my department that I absolutely love. Is it sad that white out makes me happy? Oh, that little container on the left is hand sanitizer. Yep. Love that too.



Cupcakes from the baker in our group.


Fighting off the stupid office dog in defiance as he tries to take stuff out of my trash and steal my cupcakes.

So far I feel the same as I did last year and the year before that and the year I turned 30. But I am well aware that I will be entering new territory next year because something about 40, even 39, just feels so....mainstream. I am old enough for everything, except retirement, and no one is even questioning if I can buy alcohol or cigarettes, not that I'd want to. Yuck. No one looks at me twice if I say my kids are young or if I said I had teenagers. I could easily go either way. I am old enough to have graduated college childless and now be the mother of a college graduate. Wow. Gotta get off this train of thought.

Counting. I have a good husband (I am helping a friend to move to her own apartment this weekend because her 3-year marriage is just about done. Mine ain't perfect but I ain't miserable and I still like him so thank you God). Two pretty perfect kids in light of the brats who have crossed my path over the years. A job I still love and that pays me as well or better than I would have hoped to be making by now, but I wasn't sure what that would be anyway. I am, after all, in the topsy-turvey, financially unpredictable world of writing and editing. I have a home I love. I am in touch with all the important people from 1st grade on. I have local friends I can count on like family and family who know the meaning of the word. I need to lose weight (as usual) but despite that (and the eczema), I don't have one health issue worth losing sleep over and not one doctor is telling me I'm the borderline of anything. I belong to a church that doesn't make me feel unworthy or like I am still missing something and even though it is a large church, plenty of people know my name. (I can't remember all theirs though. That's another issue.) I know my spiritual gifts and my passions and I exercise them daily. I can drive. (I couldn't do that until I was 21.) I'm not afraid to be alone. My regrets can still fit on less than 5 fingers. I have hope for all sorts of things yet to come.

I'm sure there are more blessings to count, but I think this should tide me over for the day. Thank you God for another year. Ah, sweet 39.

So, um, God? Take your time with 2010, OK? Thanks!