40

It's here. 40. I may have made a few self deprecating comments about dreading 40...turning 39 "for the second time" but in reality, I've never been so excited. The hysterical sobbing is just an off shoot of that. Emotions are all messed up, but that's okay. I've only got an hour left of this old life. This is the danger. I will put too much stock in turning 40. I will pin all my hopes on this birthday. And then I'll get in a car wreck or I'll run my stockings or something. I want to start something tomorrow. I want a new page. I want a new start.
I want to be better and I want to do better...at everything. That's a tall order. How do I not let myself down with that? When I wake up tomorrow and I look in the mirror, who am I going to see? The same person I saw this morning. If I wasn't happy with this mornings me, how can I be happy with tomorrow's me?
Okay, so what am I doing correctly, right now, at the age of 39?
I did a "grown up" thing today and went to the doctor to hear the magical words, "That lump is nothing and should be gone within a week."
I went to a meeting tonight
I walked 3 miles to get to that meeting
I recognized that love is all around me and available to me in unconditional form, if I am willing to open up to it
I did the best I could today as a mother
I worked hard at my job today
I am not married
I am seeking a better relationship with my child

So that's not such a bad list of things to carry with me into the next decade. Or to just carry with me tomorrow, as I accept good wishes from the wonderful people I love and dodge cake at all costs. What can I build tomorrow? What can I create tomorrow? What can I do, for that 1 day, that is, in reality, just like every other day?
That's a good question. I'll have to ask myself that when I wake up 40.