Another 10 years …

It is only fitting that the last ten years, as I approach my 40th birthday this month, is bookended by 9/11 and the death of Osama Bin Laden, the instigator of that tragic event.  Ironically enough, I turned 30 in 2001, and I remember freaking out even a year before about the whole thing.  The year appeared to bear out all that anxiety–I lost my job and the one dream at the time I had for myself.

My thirties, I would characterize, were a more mature, responsible period of being gainfully employed, paying bills and pretty much playing it safe.  The next decade, well, I would predict, would be a hybrid of my twenties and thirties–grown up, yes, but with a hint of excitement and a new investment in my dreams for this upcoming lifetime.  A little hokey, but that’s what my friends in their forties are want to say, especially my female friends who claim it is the penultimate time in a woman’s life.  Judging from my intrepid anticipation, I might just say they are right.