Here I am, 40 today. And I don't feel all that old. There are days I do, of course. You know, when I try to get up too quickly from playing on the floor with my kids. Or when I catch my reflection in the mirror and see someone else's spotted, veiny legs where mine used to be. Or when I start spouting off unsolicited advice to people who are actually the age I like to think I am.
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Each time something happens to me that reminds me that I'm heading into the third act of my life, I am startled and a bit annoyed. It's not that I didn't know these things would happen -- the memory lapses, the slight hair loss, tiring more quickly, sleeping less soundly -- I just thought they would happen, you know, later.