this is forty in the apocalypse. any questions?
I turned 40, last December. Right before the apocalypse hit.
I had big plans for 40. Big, I tell you.
I was going to embrace it, for starters. Skip the midlife crisis and go right to loving myself. Or something.
Instead, I woke up in the middle of the night a few weeks ago {I do that often, because who sleeps anymore? I’m not even pretending to have my life together} and realized I’ll be forty-one soon. I know it happens, the passing of time and stuff. It just really snuck up on me. Like, why couldn’t I have been a vampire and lived forever or something? At the very least, a trophy wife? Because when it comes down to it, this year kind of bummed me out, and I’ve had to take a second to acknowledge it. It turns out, 40, just like 2020 was kind of a big disappointment. I was supposed to arrive. I have no idea where, it just sounds good. Instead, I’m the ant, and this year is the mean kid with the magnifying glass, here to fry me after bringing all my shortcomings to light. Wheeee! I accomplished a few things kind of unintentionally, that just made me feel older.
Is this 40? Or am I the egg in the 80’s commercial a-la drugs?
This is forty in the apocalypse. Any questions?
1. I became a plant mom.
Life happened to me in reverse, because first I kept the children alive, THEN the plants. Isn’t it supposed to be a thing where you practice on the plant and then you do the whole human thing? Because if they were going by my plant history alone, someone should have taken my newborns away in the hospital. I’d like to say our offspring made it thus far without a psychotic break, so we must be doing something right. Stay tuned for their bestselling novels.
I was always too busy to remember to water plants in the past. This is the official age where you download that app to identify said plants, and obsess over where to plant them. Because our back yard is flourishing, and suddenly we’re obsessed with landscaping. We’ve planted 139 plants and trees in our yard since all of this started. Jamin counted. That’s not even counting the fragile ones I baby, like succulents and pretty, bring-them-inside plants. I obsess over the first frost, and protecting them. I get all excited over their progress. Cue visions of my retirement with yoga classes, painting and gardens in my head. If this is just the beginning, sign me up. We won’t even talk about the bird identifier app I added, alongside how many bird calls I can now identify. I am so woke.
At this rate, you’ll see me at a restaurant in twenty years’ time adorned in glorious baubles telling stories of yore regaled with “In MY day…”
2. The fluffage is real.
Halp. Adulthood is gaining and losing the same ten pounds until you die. I get it. I’m all about going by how you feel. It’s just that my ten pounds scale has now moved up to the next ten. This is like an extra knife in the side to forty and I’m officially having a midlife crisis. Am I even trying anymore? Speaking of midlife, I even ordered some false magnetic lashes out of sheer boredom, with absolutely no special event whatsoever to wear them to. I guess I thought it would lift my eyes up sans plastic surgery. The kids just keep asking me why I’m wearing too much makeup, and STOPJUDGINGME.
Usually, you have the spring to prep for your summer bod and shed a little unwanted fluffage. We had isolation with a side of full on anxiety and depression. It’s like the world started to burn, and I decided to insulate myself. Might as well enjoy it. So I did, with aaaalllllll the donuts, sushi and Mexican food. All in the name of supporting local biz, you guys. Now I’m sporting a good solid ten a-la my undercarriage.
Jk. I wish it all went to my undercarriage. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.
My summer bod didn’t happen, but my 2020 fluffy celebratory, sweaters to hide it all bod, because who has time to care… is on point.
3. Introvert skills at an all time high.
Ew, people.
Maybe this is the reason we poured so much energy into the first two points, above.
I’ve always had the propensity to crawl on the floor like a ninja if someone comes to my door unannounced. Duh. Who even wears a bra at home? And who knocks on people’s doors, unannounced like a total psychopath? Are you a sadist? I’m so well-seasoned, I even avoid people I know at the grocery store. JK, I always did that. As it turns out, these masks are my friend. Forget the great safety debate. People refusing to wear them are missing out on an amazing opportunity to avoid everyone, especially when paired with a nice pair of sunglasses. SHE DOESN’T EVEN GO HERE.
I can’t decide if my introvert skills have just been heightened by the apocalypse, or if I was destined to be this way. I’m the perfect example of someone shaped by her environment. Kind of like the potential killers that are triggered to be murderers. Except I’m now a loner. Which, now that I’m thinking about it, is the first step to becoming a serial killer. Looks like I’m on the right path you guys. Cue Nancy Grace reading my blog live, five years from now, when I’m falsely accused of something random all because they questioned me. I’ll confess because I’ll immediately feel some weird form of shame a-la something from the fifth grade, even though I didn’t do whatever they say I did.
It’ll all come back to PTSD from this year.
_______
Fabulous photo by Light By Iris Photography
One second you’re young and cute and riding with the windows down singing to Britney, the next you’re screaming ‘CITIZENS ARREST!’ at the teen you spy flying too fast down your street. Organizing and purging now makes me happy, and cleaning the grout in our shower never felt so satisfying whilst listening to true crime podcasts.
At the end of the day, I think it’s all about just celebrating putting one foot in front of the other. Even if it’s straight to the fridge to eat my leftover Mexican food. Hopefully 41 will bring a little more normalcy and growth in good ways, where I can self-correct a few things. Fingers crossed. I’ll keep a few of the pros from this year… Just not all of them.
This is forty in the apocalypse. Any questions?
Outstanding work! Enjoyed your writing!!
Omg I needed this, this morning. ALL the plants! This is amazing. Thank you for always keeping it real and being so funny!
Thanks for sharing this. You speak for a lot of us.
With masks as facial adornment now, I wonder if there has been an increase in sales of eye makeup and a sharp decrease in lipstick?! Another reason to strive in business not to put all eggs in one basket.
All I know is, my lipstick has lasted me THE ENTIRE YEAR. 😀 We learned the eggs in the basket rule the hard way when we took the leap to move our family here four years ago. It’s a tough one to come back from. I feel for everyone in so many ways.
Thank you for always making me laugh. Your blog and social media are part of what has gotten me through this year.
Hysterical! Thank you! Ha! I am also a mom of plants and I turned 40 this year. We won’t even talk about weight gain. 😂
Love this!
My friend and I got talking in between both of us turning 40 a couple of years ago. After a few glasses we were doing the “what we’d tell our 20 year old selves’. I realised that I don’t want to have that same conversation at 60. I don’t want to have to look back and think about what I could have done. It’s really hard. Waking up each day and making changes, and the pandemic obviously isn’t helping! But it feels noble in the attempt you know?