Naughty Forty

I am 40 this year. There, I’ve said it. I’m not going to pretend I’m happy about it, but I’ve finally accepted it’s happening.

It’s weird, because I really do feel like I’m still in my 20’s. I still do the same stupid shit I did in my 20’s, like vomiting out of a car window because I had a tiny bit too much wine and re-appropriating picnic benches at 2 in the morning across a caravan park…

Some things have changed though…

• My recovery time from all my ridiculous antics has definitely at least doubled in length (although I still maintain that a breakfast beer is the best way through the pain).
• I make involuntary noises when I stand up or sit down. I’m not sure if this is my age or the fact that I’m fat. I’m not changing either of those things any time soon so it will continue to be a mystery.
• Wrinkles. I have wrinkles. To many of them. The kraken asked me the other day why I had drawn on my forehead. I hadn’t. It was wrinkles. Arsehole.
• I am even more intolerant to bullshit. I’ve never been the most tolerant of people anyway, but as I get older it seems I’m much more likely to just call people out on it and give even less of a fuck if they care or not.
• My ability to lie in bed. What’s that all about? I should need more sleep, I’m old. Instead I find myself waking at ridiculous times of the morning and instead of snuggling back down into the land of nod, I get up! Why?? On a Sunday, I don’t need to. I could stay there for hours if I wanted. The kids are fairly self sufficient, they know how to forage for food. Why can’t I just go back to sleep??
• I’ve gone from having FOMO (fear of missing out) to having LOMO (love of missing out) It’s got to be a pretty special occasion to make me keep a bra on past 6pm nowadays. I would rather be sat in my pyjamas watching a box set, than being out socialising. I’m more than happy for friends to join me in my slovenly habits, but going out is just sooooo much effort 🤣

So I’m trying to embrace turning 40 and all the miserable changes that come with it. My only issue now is, what to do to ‘celebrate’ it.

Everyone that knows me well, knows that I hate birthdays. I sulk for at least a week leading up to them, and spend the whole day in the worst mood ever. I don’t know why.  Nothing particularly traumatic has happened on a birthday (other than getting older) but I just don’t enjoy them. I’ve tried to change, but I  can’t. I am who I am.

I thought I might like a party, that seems to be the done thing. But with friends and family spread far and wide, it’s a logistical nightmare.  And the kids would be there ruining it. Even thinking about it started to get a bit stressful. I looked at a couple of venues. The ones I liked cost an arm and a leg, and I came to the conclusion I’d rather have a holiday. On my own 😂

When you hit a milestone birthday there seems to be a lot more pressure to celebrate it. Google ‘turning 40’ and it will pull up page after page of blogs with ‘40 things to do before you’re 40’   I haven’t even got 40 things I want to do before I’m 90! And as there’s only 41 weeks until I turn 40, that means I’ve got to roughly do one thing a week? That seems like a lot of work to me. I’ll probably give it a miss.

Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to carry on my year as normal, and every fun day out, or weekend away, I’m going to pretend that I’m doing it for my 40th. I’m not going to change a single thing. I’ll just live my year like it’s any other year. I’ll see the people I want to see, do the things I want to do, and have a whole year of fun of pretend 40th celebrations.

And in November, when the actual day is here, I’ll take my bra off, pop on my pyjamas, and watch a box set. Anyone want to join me?