So.  In less than three weeks I have a birthday.

A big birthday.

THE birthday.

And I am not amused.

In fact, I think that this is the year when I officially start lying about my age.   I’m turning 40.  Coincidentally (har) this is also the year that I’ve been diagnosed with arthritis, anemia, pre-menopause, had my boobs squeezed in a vice like machine that surely was created by a man and glasses are in my immediate future.

People have been calling me “ma’am”.  Gray hairs are surfacing despite constant hair color monitoring.  I forget what I’m doing half the time, lose things, have to get up and pee while I’m sleeping at least twice a night and find myself more and more unable to fit in with the young crew at work. 

Last week I was talking with a co-worker thru a messenger.  Joking with her I went into a whole Abbott & Costello bit, you know – “who’s on first, what’s on second” yada yada.   She had no clue to what I was talking about.  Nor who Abbott & Costello are. 

She’s 25.    I told her she needed to Google them or I would never talk to her again.   Granted, not appropriate behavior for her supervisor but – I look at it as a learning experience for her. 

I should be nicer with her.  More patient.  More of a role model.

Someday, she could be helping me with my diapers.