I’m going to be 39 on Sunday. That’s one of those ages that you always have to follow with, “No, really!”
When I turned 29, all I could think about was turning 30, and then when I turned 30, I realized it wasn’t really anything to dread. I suppose the same will happen with 39 and 40.
My health is reasonable, though I do have to get into better shape, which is harder to do every year. I *do* wish my knees didn’t suck so much, though. Making me feel all old and decrepit.
Then, of course, there’s the looming sense that I’ve squandered a lot of time, in particular with my career. What am I doing now? I’m basically in the same place I was 7 or so years ago. Sure, I have a degree from a fancy law school, but I’m working by the hour in a job I really can’t stand, making very little money because my rate isn’t what I’d like it to be and they won’t let me work more than 35 hours a week. I have no insurance, no savings, but plenty of debt. At least I own my apartment, which is huge.
But where do I go from here? What do I do for the next 26 years, until I hit retirement age?
And I suspect I’m cursed romantically. I have great first dates, and even pretty good second ones, when they happen. And then something unaccountable happens, and the guy inevitably disappears on me. Any feelings I have for anyone else are, without fail, unrequited. And, apparently, unwelcome.
Like, scalded-cat unwelcome.
Why-do-I-not-just-fucking-get-it-already-and-go-away unwelcome.
Bah.
I should quit being all morose and just finish my damn CLE already. New York makes your attorney registration renewable every two years on your birthday. “Happy Birthday! Now give us $350.”
At least they remember.
UPDATE: Oh, Jesus Christ. I really didn’t need this, too.
I’ll be 45 on Oct. 5th. We always feel like we’re running out of time, when there’s always just enough time for what we want. It’s just realizing that fact that’s difficult.
I’ve been working on being here NOW, instead of worrying about what I have to do tomorrow or next week, or what I did two years ago. It’s definitely an art.
*Happy Birthday* on Sunday, in case I don’t get back here by then!
I’ve always counted myself fortunate in having two (much) older brothers. I get to feel shocked at how old they are, and it seems to cushion me from shock at my own age (I’m 38 also). Instead of feeling “Oh God, I’m almost 40!” on my birthday, I end up saying, “Oh God, Robert’s almost 50!” on his birthday. Much healthier for me.
(I had a comment all written up, but something choked and it got lost. So I’ll repeat it and forgive me if it shows up twice.)
I definitely feel for you here, zuzu.
I’m younger than you, but only by a few years. I started graduate school years ago, and I’m still in it, still thinking that I’m going to get this dissertation done. Once - if it does actually happen - I get the magic three letters after my name, well, then what? I’ve got a ton of debt and the job market isn’t exactly clamoring for historians.
In the realm of dating and sex, this feeling of time pressure is stronger. It took me a long time to get to the point where I was comfortable enough with myself that I could feel attractive to others and have a decent dating life. My 20s were a wasteland, dating-wise, and now I often feel like I have to make up for lost time before I get “too old”, whatever that means.
(As an aside, I would feel better about having unrequited feelings for another if she would just tell me that she wasn’t interested instead of simply not returning my phone calls or e-mail messages and waiting for me to go away. Is it really that hard?)
I guess that in the end, we make time for the things we really want. All you can really do is make the best of what years you have left; I know that “today is the first day of the rest of your life” is really hokey, but that thought has actually helped me get out of bed when I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
That, and the Wellbutrin.
By the way, what’s a “CLE”?
BINGO!!!
Or, doing the hot-and-cold, hot-and-cold thing.
CLE = Continuing Legal Education. I have to do 24 hours every 2 years, and as of yesterday, I’ve done 6.5. I did discover I can complete them up to 30 days after my birthday, and I found some free online courses, so money’s not an issue.
Happy (early) birthday, Zuzu! As CLD says, you’re not alone in feeling the way you do. I’m going to be 50 on December 2, and I’m long past the “wish I were able to have kids” and “would like to have been famous” regrets and into the “wish my best friend and my father were still alive” ones. Some things are just out of our control. Hang onto your personal health and happiness, that’s what’s most important.
35 next January. Does that mean I’m out of the treasured 18-34 straight stupid white male demographic?
P.S. I often use my degree from a fancy law school for 11% off day-old bread from the Mrs. Baird’s surplus store.
P.P.S. Early Happy Birthday, Z!
Thanks for the good wishes, all.
And, Norb, who’s keeping track of the bets on when you’ll be back to blogging?
How long did your Feministing fast last? Double that, add 3 (undefined units), divide by 1.54, apply the cotangent of the angle formed by uppermost face of the Transamerica Tower, and then bury that in your backyard. Payment will be forthcoming from my army of Lithuanian bookies.
Still comes out to zero.
Never wrote for Feministing.
I’ll be 39 next year. At least you have a profession — I’m lucky to be working as an administrative assistant for $18 an hour in high-priced Los Angeles, and that’s with an MFA in screenwriting.
As far as meeting guys, when I finally got sick of not dating, I signed up with the now-defunct personals at Swoon.com, which were free and didn’t require a picture. My now-husband was the 14th guy I met and only the second that I had a second date with, so it was all about the law of averages.
I just turned 37 last week. I love getting older. I give so much less of a shit about how I look to other people and being cool than I did when I was younger!
Have a great Birthday!
I turned 40 earlier this year, and it wasn’t a big deal. So you’ve been around the Sun 39 times. I think it’s happy you’re still here. I know I am.
I actually look forward to getting older — always felt older than I am, can’t wait to see how I age.
Totally want gray hair.
I envy your birthday.
Enjoy your birthday, but find a way to take a holiday in some strange place. That’s debt worth racking up.
Totally want gray hair.
It’s lovely both to own and to see.
Hmmm…I don’t know about my mom, since she has colored her hair for over 30 years, but my dad is just now getting a tiny bit of gray on the tips of a few of his hairs, and he turns 60 this December. Both he and my mom easily look 10 years younger than they actually are, so I think it might be a while before I get gray.
I started to go gray when I was about 25, though it’s not advancing very quickly. I keep trying to convince people that they’re platinum highlights, not gray hairs, but my husband says I’m not fooling anyone.
I could tell when my mom had gone at least 50% gray, because she suddenly showed up as a platinum blonde when she’d been a brunette all her life. It looks great on her, though, so why not?
You are just one step closer to being the eccentric old auntie that takes her nephews on binge-drinking tours of NYC–via the Plaza and the museums and the Irish pubs–when they are not-quite-of-age.
Or even better still–your nieces, ha ha.
So buck up and get on with it old girl (I just channeled Mom there, sorry…
Well, Kat –
I’ll always be younger than you.
Plus, the Plaza’s being turned into luxury condos.
I dunno. My hobby when I’m 15 years older than today will be to corrupt my nieces. I hope you are in on me with that one
Okay, remember Tracey Z? She and I dreamed of eating at the Plaza while we were slinging fries at McDs. We finally went there, and got seated in the Oak Room. We thought we were just da bomb! Then we looked at the menu and realized we were way over our Mickey-D paychecks with the prices. So we decided we’d to salads and tea. We split a ceasar salad–only to find out that “real” ceasar salads, like those made at the Plaza… have anchovies!! We pushed the salad around our plates for an hour or so to look like we knew what we were doing. We left there hungry and broke but glowing that we had actually-eaten-at-the-Plaza!!!
Happy Birthday 2U!
And fuck loosers who can’t handle a smart, confident woman with a job. Or, better yet, DON’T fuck them.
Holy shit, you own your apartment? In NYC? Hats off, mate, that is way more than I ever hope to achieve.
And happy early birthday
Thanks!
I bought it 6 years ago, before prices started going through the roof. I had a really good tax refund one year because of moving from New Jersey to New York within the tax year and not having to pay city tax on most of my income (which is just bullshit, frankly, since I used the services while I worked in NYC), plus I cashed out my IRA, and I only had to put down 10% because it was a sponsor unit. I continually thank my lucky stars that I scraped together the money to do this.