I didn’t have any issues with 30.  The jokes came.  I laughed at all the “you’re old” cards that were sent my way.  I had a new job, a new husband, a new place to live and a new son.

Thirty was a breeze.

I thought 40 would be the same way, but I flipped the calendar to March yesterday and HOLY CRAP.  It’s like a truck barreling at me.  I’m taking a hard look at my life.  There is much I should be grateful for.

BUT

I thought I’d be in a different place.  I thought I’d have other accomplishments under my belt.  I thought I would have learned more lessons, been more mature, become less sensitive, more self-assured.

Basically, I thought I’d have my shit together by 40.

I know I’m not supposed to compare myself to other people, but it’s hard not to sometimes.  Honestly though, it’s the comparison I make against who I thought I would be that hurts the most.

Maybe it’s being adopted.  Maybe it was growing up in a family that looked different than most at the time.  Maybe it was the strong feminist influence from my beloved aunt.  Could be a dad that picked up and walked away one day.  Whatever it was (and seriously I’ve had enough counseling to have figured this out by now) I feel like I was supposed to excel at something big–something worthwhile.

I feel like I need to prove that I am worthwhile.

Wow.  Those eleven words were really difficult to write.

Well there it is.  I’m going to be mulling that one over for a bit.

Luckily, I still have 28 more days to sort this out.

Today friends are on my mind.

I just found out that my dear friend Lisa, who writes Midwestern Mommy, has cancer. She is 35. She has a little guy–a family. This can’t be. I wish I lived closer so I could do something, anything. Please go send her your thoughts. She’s much tougher than she thinks she is, but I imagine she’s going to need all the support we can muster right now.

I reached out to two friends today in desperate need to talk, and two friends were there for me. I want them to know how much their loving ears meant to me.

Redsy and D, thank you.

D, you let me know that I’m not alone when most people (you know who I mean) wouldn’t want to.

Redsy, you gave me a new perspective from which I now see potential rather than just barriers.

These three friends are on my mind today. I love each of you.

This is the reason I didn’t get to vote yesterday.

This is the reason it took me two and half hours to go the first thee miles of my commute.

I left the office at 5:45 p.m. and arrived home at 10:15 p.m. I had ten miles to traverse.

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I’m not strong with math, but I’m pretty sure that even after subtracting my one hour stop for peeing and food (what? there were no cups in the car) and the use of improper fractions, the rate of my progress was akin to Alice’s courtship to Sam, the butcher.

I was taught that if I worked hard, tried to get along with folks and followed the rules that I would succeed.

At each stage in my life, I asked the authority figures why this plan didn’t seem to be working out the way they promised. I was always reassured that the folks who were seeming to get things easy wouldn’t always have it that way and it would work out better for me in the long run.

They said that in middle school.

They said that in high school.

They said that in college.

They said that when I entered the work force.

And now?

I just had the same exact conversation once again!

For crying out loud! I’m nearly 38.

I’m seriously thinking my time might be better spent focusing on looking hot before it will be too late to use that to my advantage.

(Sorry for the pity party today. I’m just tired of working in an industry where people who can’t find their way out of a paper bag make more money than I do and then hire me to tell them how to do their job.)