Today is my last day as a 38 year old. Tomorrow I will be 39.
Can I tell you all what I don’t like about the idea of 39?
It’s not necessarily the extra chin hair, the extra white hair, the extra wrinkles by the eyes, the saggier boobs or ass or skin for that matter of fact. It’s the actual number.
And not the number in the sense that it’s closer to 40 and in an age sort of way but because of the number 3 and the number 9.
Many of you (many of you close to me also) don’t know this about me but, I do not care for odd numbers.
I’m an even number kind of girl.
When I was 19, I just wanted to be 20. When I was 29, I just wanted to be 30.
Whenever I’m doing something with numbers, if I can just round it to an even number, I will.
Maybe it’s because I was born on even numbers. 12-28-72. All even!
And now comes 39. A nice odd number….If I didn’t like celebrating my birthday so much, I might think about only celebrating every other even year.
Odd or not, I welcome 39 though. 38 was a good year. I don’t have many complaints.