I’ve just turned 45 and, as the saying goes, I’ve never been so old.
Is that a saying? Probably not.
Anyhoo, there are (at least) two ways to look at birthdays: an anniversary celebration of the day of your birth or an acknowledgement of the end of a year of your life – and a chance to look forward.
I go for the second option. A 45th birthday marks the end of forty-five years on this Earth. And there are many opportunities for depressing thoughts of mortality, questions of what you’ve achieved in that time, and long periods of empty lies to yourself about what great things you’ll make happen in the coming year.
In case you’re wondering, my list includes:
- Getting something published
- Learning a new skill and getting a qualification in it
- Reading all of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series
- Posting one article a week on this blog
- Finally getting my second tattoo
- Training Jordan to not try to savage every man, woman, child, and dog she sees
Feel free to check back in 12 months on how I do on these.
What follows are a small example of what a middle-aged Englishman in Texas gets up to in celebration of 45 years on this small blue dot of ours. I am writing this before I’ve taken the pictures, but I’m going to guess that most of the pictures will be of food:
Yep, that was exactly right.
