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Jimmegee hits a milestone and loves it

The big four O

jimmegee

Monday, 26 January 2009

Oh my God! Oh my golly gosh! I’m nearly 40. Darlings, I’ve been planning the celebrations for a couple of years, thinking of how fabulous my fancy dress is going to be and how much fun everyone’s going to have and how terrible I’ll feel the next day (week?) but there’s one thing I hadn’t thought about until recently and that is how darned 40 I’m going to feel.

OK, OK, so perhaps I should just get over myself. I”m sure a lot of you already hit that mark (and more) some time ago and if you lot are all going strong, still spinning the discs and making the moves and living the Big Gay Life then why shouldn’t I? It’s just a number, after all, and if I’m not acting my age at 39, there’s no reason why I should start doing so at 40.

It’s no secret from most of my friends and colleagues now so I won’t mind sharing with you all that I have every intention of leaving my ridiculously over-paid meedja job this year and training to be a teacher. Sign, if ever one were needed, that I am indeed hitting a midlife crisis. So 40 is a landmark, after all, and a catalyst for change - and on this particular point, it’s definitely a change for the better. Whether as a fully qualified teacher I’ll still be allowed to blog about clubbing my tits off is another matter but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Then there’s the gardening, and my sudden renewed interest in baking and cooking (things I haven’t really taken much interest in since I was at school). I’m nesting, aren’t I? I mean, this is what 40-somethings do, isn’t it?! Oh my God! But you know what, I bloody love it. I love the thought of knuckling down with my study books and shadowing and my first classes next year. I love the idea of having to live within my means and I love the bloody awesome carrot cake I made last Sunday (the Doctor and I polished the whole darned thing off by Wednesday evening of this week - diet’s going well). I also can’t wait for the next few weeks when the daffs I planted in my emptied tomato pots start poking out of the earth. Most of all, I love the complete nob I’m going to make of myself on my 40th birthday, so if you see a larger-than-life Karma Chameleon-era Boy George staggering round Brighton sometime in late February, come and give me a 40th birthday hug and we’ll dance the night away, just like I used to do in my 30’s.