This year I turned 40. They say 40 is the new 30, but I don't really buy that. 40 is disconcerting for a number of reasons. For instance, this week I realized that I am as far from retirement age as I am from when I got my driver's permit. This fact is more than a little disconcerting.
40 isn't just troubling because of the ever-increasing distance to the prime of your youth, it is also the age when your the likelihood of suffering a humiliating and stupid injury increases by approximately 8,000%.
What am I talking about? I'm glad you asked. See, right now my forehead is sore. Why is it sore? Well, the explanation goes like this. This morning I was brushing my teeth and I realized I had to sneeze. Now, I had just started brushing, so I had to figure out how to sneeze, and to finish brushing too. I decided to lower my head as close to the sink as possible so that I could sneeze and hopefully not spray toothpaste all over the bathroom. Then, I could continue brushing my teeth.
I still stand behind this idea philosophically. I think the theory was sound, but perhaps the execution left a little to be desired. It turns out this particular sneeze was a little violent, and so, with my head hovering just above the sink the violent explosion caused my head to snap forward, slamming my forehead into the faucet.
So tonight I sit here typing this, rubbing my forehead, just thankful I don't have a concussion.
This is 40.