I'm turning forty. How the hell did that happen?
At forty, I thought I would weigh less and earn more. I'd hoped that I would have children and own a home.
The thing about a life is that you only get one of them. I've tried to live my life with that in mind, but I just seem to wind up forever starting over. I think when I turn sixty, I'll still be resolving to get my life started.
Goddamned milestone birthdays.