They say that this birthday carries a lot more baggage for women than it does for men.  I thought that I hated today, but I've been doing a lot of thinking about it.  How could I not?

Today symbolizes the death of one decade and the beginning of another.  As much as I look forward to the future, sometimes I hate to admit that the present of yesterday is now the past of today.  Even so, I am unable to look back with regret or ill feelings. 

I smile at my reflection and take inventory of the tiny wrinkles that magically appear at the corner of my eyes.  I count two grey hairs that I somehow resist the urge to pluck.  Only two, since I haven't the heart to look for more.  But, when I look into my own eyes, I see contentment there.  Each emerging line, each grey hair, however many there really are, has been well earned so far. 

My life has progressed in such a delightfully surprising way that I am content with the well spent hours, days and years.  Time past, yes, but richly lived.  Even so, it is not enough.

I know that there are worse things that can happen to you than having another birthday.  Like not having another birthday.  I think that I still have so much to do that there can not possibly be enough years left to see me through.  This is my only worry, and perhaps the reason why I am so reluctant to see another year pass, no matter how well it was spent.  Is it wrong to be so greedy for life? 

Perhaps in another decade, the regrets of an aging person will surface, but until then, I only look forward to tomorrow and all the amazing things that I plan to encounter along the way.

Maybe this isn't so bad after all.  But if any one of you calls me old, or labels me as a cougar, I'm going break you with my kung fu.