I've been thinking about 39 for a while now. There are several ways to think of this age--I could be pouty and say this is my "last" birthday, never adding another number to 39 each year after this. I'm not so narcissistic as to be that way.
I could also say that I've been three years old 13 times. Not sure that's much fun, though.
I could be thirteen 3 times. Nope--teen years, *shudder*--I don't want to relive those.
I'm one less than forty. I'm exactly the same age as my husband for the next two months. I'm one day younger than Rachael Ray. I'm now older than my sister-in-law (and she will most certainly stop by my blog to remind me!)
I was born in a year that was hugely pivotal for this country, 1968. I'm hoping I've had the same force of impact on someone else's life, in a good way.
Doing nothing today at all--same stuff, different day--it's all different when you get older, isn't it?
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