For the most part, I'm pretty excited about it. I can't tell you why, exactly. It's not an accomplishment in the sense I achieved something through any kind of effort. I just kept getting out of bed every day. (Which, as I understand it, gets more difficult as the years pass so maybe it is something just to get out of bed.)
I'm not really worried about menopause with one exception. I'm worried the system will shut down when I'm in PMS mode and I'll be stuck there forever. Hopefully, it shuts off when I'm in a better mood.
I'm excited because I bought myself a present and it arrived today. I'm not going to open it, though, even though I already know what's inside. I'm not going to tell you what it is, either. You're just going to have to wait. I'll put a picture up in a couple weeks.
It's just that I'm going to be fifty. It feels remarkable to get there. I feel remarkable. Really great.
I don't have any plans for that day. Don't care if I do. I'm just looking forward to getting out of bed another day.
As long as there's coffee.