9 Months, 40 Years, and a Few Days Ago

When do I start feeling my age? How do I measure the passing of my time outside of rotations on axis and revolutions around a bright, gaseous bulb?

The typical body aches more. The aging and unfortunate mind jades. Yes. All of these things and more.

40 years feels like a strong and delicate place at the same time. It feels both central and fringe. I hear a voice in my head telling me to “unpack those statements” to which another voice replies, “no, you’re at work and break is over.”

First voice responds, “Really? You’re a government employee! Does your break ever end?”

“Burn.” Replies voice number two.

Moving on. . .

Is 40 the hub of life? I don’t know.

30 felt pretty central. Even 20 had hubbish hues.

I’ve just banked a solid 20 years of quasi-adult experiences! The memories are the interest. The regrets, (yes, a few) crashes and unfortunate investments from which I hope I have learned.

What have I learned? <insert clichés here>

I might only know what 40 means to me after I have had time to reflect upon it. At 50, perhaps.