I am 39 for one more week. I feel good, but can’t help focusing on the obvious. I am almost 40.

Good news: the years leading to this point have been rich and varied. I hope I have set myself up for another 40+ rich and varied experiences. I look at my children and think of them–facing the first 40. Here I am facing the next. I have never worried about birthdays marking my aging, but this time I am aware of it. On the one hand, I have spent the last 6 months working to get ready for next week’s day. I have lost weight and feel great. I look at the pictures of myself in my 30s and know I will look and feel more fit now.

There’s less room for mistakes now, but fortunately I am wiser and less likely to make as many, right? 40. I won’t take any shit.