Two Months and Counting . . . Sort of

In exactly two months I will be 40. I'm not traumatized by this fact, and I actually don't think it's a huge deal. Plus, having another birthday sure beats the alternative, right? One by one, my friends have been turning 40. Some were dreading it, some tried not to acknowledge it at all, and some celebrated big time. I think I fall somewhere in the middle. I don't dread it, but I won't be using the occasion to have a big bash. I'd like to have a nice dinner with my family, and of course, some birthday cake.

In the meantime, during these two months prior to my foray into the next decade of my life, I'm going to try my damndest to whip my 39-year-and-10-month-old body into shape. I realize I'm not giving myself a whole lot of time to accomplish this daunting task, but I'm determined - and maybe I'll work better under pressure. Then on November 7, I will eat that birthday cake (it will be chocolate, by the way) with gusto and feel absolutely no guilt, only happiness.