And here it is: 45

45, as in I'm 45 now.

And if I'm to believe my 4k "My Life in Weeks" poster that hangs above my head ... I'm halfway thru my life.

Dear lord. Is that morbid? 

Even more morbid ... with my family history of 3 of 4 of my grandparents dying before the age of 60 (50, 53, 33), my dad dying at 67, and his sister dying at 54 ...  I suppose that I could have even less time here on the planet. And no, there's not any car accidents or mysterious disappearances in those deaths. Just good old fashioned cancer and/or massive heart attacks. 

So. There's that. 

I don't really have any super strong feelings about it. I mean ... sure ... it's a bit sobering. I'm not having any sort of crisis and/or transformative ideations (OMG ENJOY LIFE NOW! MOVE TO MAUI AND OPEN A CAT RESCUE). I'm not getting a porsche or any of the cliched mid-life crisis crap. 

Although, a porsche would be nice. I'll take this one:

Anyhow ... I ramble. 

For 45 ... I'm going to the gym. I'm going to eat some crab rangoon and my mother's keto cookies (which def cancel out the gym). I'm going to take a salt bath and drink some sparkling wine in the tub. N took me this past weekend for amazing dinner and stayed at an amazing hotel. I've had well wishes from so many friends. Presents and donations and texts and coupons (so. many. birthday email coupons) and free Starbucks.

45 is pretty decent.