Goodness I can only hope. I'm officially in my MID-thirties now, 34... somehow I held onto 33 as "early" 30's. Semantics? You betcha. Does it really matter? Not at all. So why do I care?

Reality is, the number doesn't bother me at all. "Aging" doesn't bother me one bit. I can have wrinkles, and grey hair and all that stuff, and it would be fine. So what's bothering me?

Well, I guess it's that I'm one baby step closer to the end, and I don't want it to be over. It's been one helluva ride so far and I'm not ready for it to be one third done, or more.

Here's to hoping that when the time comes, part of the process, part of the wisdom, is that you're at peace with it being the end. Until then, I'm banking on having so many more years that I'm gonna be stinkin' brilliant at the end... Too bad I won't be around to use said brilliance. (Where's a smiley when you need it?!?)