Monday 4 November 2013

50 is the new Black

And so I turned 50.

I thought it was going to come with a lot more pomp and circumstance. It is, after all, a milestone. I thought it would have its own parade and that it would come into my life with as much noise as a baby making its way into the cold, bright world. But alas, I was somewhat disappointed. Not because I didn't get a party, because I did. My family gave me a wonderful party and a Keurig. I got a Keurig for my 50th birthday. I wanted a Keurig and I got one. It's awesome.

No, the party was by no means a disappointment.

I think I had this notion of where I would be in my life at the age of 50. Perhaps I even had an idea of who I would be by the time I reached this ripe, not-so-young age. Given that as a teenager, I thought no further into my future than a week or so, maybe a month if Christmas was coming but I definitely did not imagine me at 50. And yet, here I am.

Do I have kids? No. And by extension, no grandkids. Did I expect to have either? Yes.

Do I own a house? Yes. Is it paid for? No. Did I expect to be close to burning my mortgage? Yes. Am I? No.

Am I in a relationship? Yes. Am I married? No. Did I expect to be married? Yes.Will that happen? I don't know the answer to that question, just like when I was half my age...no idea. Do I feel that I should have an idea of marriage at this age? Yes.

Let's see, other milestones. Do I have a retirement plan? Yes. Will it be sufficient when I retire? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.Oh...oh...don't make me laugh. That hurts.

I have solved the "no kids" problem by enjoying the company of my niece and nephews and now, their kids. I get kick out of being with a four year old for about an hour. Then I get tired. I am 50 after all. Even if I had kids late, they'd be teenagers by now (or nearly).

The house won't be paid for until I'm 70 unless I win the lottery...more about that later. Between now and then I will try to unpack all the boxes.

There is definitely a man in my life. He sleeps in my bed, eats my food and calls me honey. He's cool. If I don't kill him I'll consider it a successful relationship.

My retirement plan is a series of lottery tickets and wanting to become a famous writer. I'm pretty sure I have to become an alcoholic first since most famous writers had a problem with the drink and I want to be famous. Really famous...which means liver damage. I'm not much of a drinker so this is going to be a toughie.

Next up is 60. I think if I make it to 60, I'll want another party. And maybe a new Keurig, it depends on how long this one lasts. And a big bottle of Bailey's to pour in the coffee. Happy birthday to me...happy birthday to me...happy birthday dear meeeeeee....happy birthday to me! And many more...