Tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be forty.
Unlike many people who turn forty, I'm not dreading it, I love birthdays, especially my own. My attitude is that I'd much rather have a birthday and get another year older than be dead. Morose, but true.
So often, getting older, and being an adult in general, is underrated. Often I hear those of my generation or older lament that they would love to be a kid again. Reminiscing about a time of no worries, or burdens, nothing but play time, nap time, eating and fun time. I don't recall my childhood as being nearly that rosy. Frankly, being an adult rocks.
There's a lot to be said for leaving the t.v. AND all the lights on when I leave the room, if that's what I want. I can go to bed whenever I choose (my choice is often 8:00 p.m., but that's not the point). Running through the house with scissors has become an option. I can have cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The choice of what clothes to wear and how to style my hair on any given day are mine and mine alone. I am not required to make my bed. And even at the ripe old age of forty, my bedroom floor is often littered with clothes that no one can make me pick up and carry to the laundry room. I don't have to be home by the time the streetlights come one. There's no one to "give me something to cry about!". No more worrying about being tall enough to ride the roller coasters. I can shop in department stores without the employees there treating me like I'm going to steal something.
Of course, many of the perks that I listed come with consequences, if I choose to implement them. Exorbitant electric bills, possible flesh wounds, a shameful waistline. But sometimes, just knowing that you can do what you want, within the reasonable confines of the law of course, is just as good as actually doing them. Just think about it...adulthood wins.