Turning 40 part 1

How did I get to 40? Honestly. I don't know when it happened and now that it is here, I am not sure I want to let it in. It sounds so old. So final. So finished. This isn't the way I feel at all -- I have the love of my life and the job of my life, yet all I think about is the call that brings me back to Portland for a funeral, Tom's cough and the mole on my arm that seems a bit suspicious. Is this what it means to be 40? I have always been a bit snide when siting the inevitability of time -- the solution to never ending production nightmares, the end of never ending waffling, the final answer because at some point you run out of questions -- but when it comes down to it, it is damn scary. We are going to die someday. Ick.

I plan to write quite a bit this weekend. Join me on my crisis of confidence and reevaluating everything journey of WTF? I don't know when I got so old. At least I look really fantastic and have very few things to ever regret.