McForton

I have not been looking forward to turning 40, and it certainly wasn't something that made it on to my "Things to do this summer" list when I started my journal in November 2001.

I've never forgotten turning 30, and 20, and on both occasions being overwhelmed by existential dread that a milestone was passing that I could never return to. That a barrier now existed between my youth and myself, and that I was edging only closer to death.

Well in hindsight it turns out both those times I still had youth on my side, and now I have the life experience to know for certain that a barrier between my youth and myself now exists and I am edging only closer to death.

But, other than dying, what can you do to avoid turning 40? Nothing, you just live as best you can, helpless in the epoch, admiring the flowers occasionally and wondering if there are things you should be trying to do before the day arrives. But there's nothing.

And when it finally happens you expect relief because at least now it's over, but it's even worse than you expected.

You wake up and eat cake for breakfast and go for a walk with your dog and wife and you see family and drink coffee and eat more cake and look at the ocean and feel the sunlight and smell the jasmine on the breeze and pat your dog and talk to friends and beat Connections on the toilet and do forty-five minutes of stretching and rehab and some single leg squats.

And that's why I don't want to turn 40. Because I could do this every day forever.