It’s an age that’s easy to forget. I’m no longer 40, not yet 45, and nothing in between is a milestone for any reason. Being 42 is not like being 40, where you’re just barely into your forties, but it’s still a long way from the end of them. So it is what it is.
42 is, for you Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy fans, the meaning of life.
42 is three times as old as my son…But only for 27 more days. Then he’s 15.
42 is what I’d love for my waist size to be. Go diet!
And being 42 is whatever I’m going to make it for the next year. My 41st year was actually pretty good. And this year is only looking up.
Thanks to all for your birthday wishes. I love you all.
See you tomorrow.