The Square Peg

No, that's not the size of the coffee I ordered from Starbucks this morning. I wish.

It's the Spanish word for 'large', which describes the size of the mistake it was to make my jello legs get out my wonderful, amazing bed this morning.

In fact, that's all I can hear right now; the screeching of my thighs and calves...I think they're saying "we'll get you, my pretty", or something like that.

Well, now I understand why lawyers make you sign a statement saying you’re of sound mind when you make up your will. It’s so they can’t be sued for the stupid, hair-brained ideas you come up with. Take tonight for instance…

Moose and I were at Wal-Mart shopping for the food we’re taking to tomorrow night’s small group dinner. We decided to browse around and see what was new in Wally World. I stumbled out of the housewares section, and there they were.

The exercise videos, sitting non-chalantly on the shelves. Yep, juuuust sitting there. You know, looking all innocent and harmless like they do. Sitting on the shelf, quietly using their brain altering powers to convince you that you can be as happy and look as good as the guy or gal on the front cover if you own that particular video.

And they had them all in stock, too; the pilates with what’s-her-name, the kick boxing with the bald guy, the yoga, the walking…

And then I saw it. It was called “Dance Off the Inches…Sizzling Salsa”.

I picked it up and showed it to Moose. I said, “hey, this could be fun”. I promise I hadn’t been drinking. But I don’t know WHAT possessed me to think exercise and fun could go together. I know better than that; shame on me.

Yeah, we bought it. Yeah, we used it. Yeah, we totally suck at it. And “fun” is the LAST word I’d use to describe that dvd. Fun? PSH.

What can I say? I just wasn’t of ’sound mind’ tonight. And I’m pretty sure I won’t be of sound body tomorrow. At least, not until the motrin kicks in.

I gotta admit, I flipped out a little when I turned 30. I kept thinking about all the stuff I hadn't done and wanted to do, thought about all the stuff I had done and wished I hadn't, and all the stuff that was still to come, and wondered what my place was in all of that. Well, my birthday has rolled around again.

Today, after spending most of my days in the "T" zone (teens, twenties & thirties), I entered the "F" zone. I'm forty. That's right, the big 4-0, middle age, over the hill, etc.

But I gotta tell ya, entering the F zone hasn't been like turning 30 at all. And if I started to think some thoughts today similar to the ones I had when I turned 30, they were quickly and decisively dismissed this morning when Moose came in to kiss me good bye before work. He put my face in his hands and said "gosh, you don't look 40". Go ahead, call me vain. Tell me I'm shallow; I don't care. There was something about the way he said it that cemented the goodness of entering 'the F zone'. I'm cool with it.

If being 40 is as much fun as turning 40 has been, I'm gonna like the F zone a lot. I was sung to (twice), sent several good wishes and emails, given gifts I had mentioned I wanted, and came back to work after lunch to discover two, count 'em two, bouquets of flowers in my office; both of which contained purple flowers in honor of my favorite color. This birthday will long be remembered as the coolest one. And since I'm 40, there are a lot of birthdays to compare!

If you're reading this and you were one of the well-wishers, I want you to know you touched me deeply with your thoughtfulness. Thanks for celebrating the anniversary of my birth.