T minus 30 days and Counting

I awoke this morning with the urge to check my calendar and see exactly how many days were left before I turn 40. I was stunned to see that it is exactly 30. 30 days left of my 30s. 30 days until my 40s. Wow. So - being the compulsive and obsessive industrious person that I am, I have decided to obsess selflessly document the process. 

That does, of course, require a logo.

I don't exactly have a handle on where this particular journey is going to take me, only that it will end up on my birthday with a giant celebration of the 40 years I've been given on this fabulous planet. See - here's the thing...I thought this whole concept would kill me. Turning 40? Good golly - I remember when the characters on thirtysomething seemed ancient. How can I possibly turn 40? But I'm finding this strange sweetness in the years - a marveling of the changes I've seen in the world around me and the ones inside me.

I was talking with Melinda last night and we were joking, as we often do, about our neurotic selves and how everyone else seems to get along just fine without dissecting every last emotion and action and moment and dust mite, while we have to blablablablabla about our angst and foibles and all. It hit me, suddenly, that perhaps we aren't so much neurotic as we are overly truthful. Come on - it can't just be us that are so messed up and confused about how to raise our children, to manage our households and love our husbands even when they pass by that same pair of shoes on the floor 900 times, right? We just have no problem sharing it endlessly on occasion.  

So - what does this have to do with my upcoming 4th decade of life? Absolutely nothing. Just sharing too much information, as we neurotic people are wont to do.  

I hope you'll join me in this last gasp of thirtyness. I'll try to make it interesting so you'll send me lots of presents want to continue reading, but I can't promise anything. I'm no spring chicken, after all.