Even more interesting is turning forty one. Its the other side of the crest of the roller coaster now. You want to do so many things. You have seen the entire park- from the waterslide to the go-carts; the old car ride to the theater (remember who we are talking about here).
But most of all what you do not want is that feeling. That part of the ride as you go down the hill and feel all of it slipping away. Except your internal organs which you distinctly feel trying to climb out of your nose.
That 15 seconds is the longest time on earth. Or so it feels. And when you finally reach the end of the torture. When Newton's laws compel all the important parts back into position, you try to stand. Probably wobble. And go on about your way.
Maybe you remember what you saw from the summit. That the other side of the park is really cool. But more likely, distracted by whatever, you tell yourself, maybe next time.
The oddest about about being on this side though, is that nagging question about how many next times there will be. How many more rides on the roller coaster? How many more chances to see the whole park. Or at least make a really strong effort. To not waste away in the gift shop, or self induce a coma of fried food; soft serve ice cream; and heat stroke. You silently question what experiences you will leave undone. What curiosities or wonders will be uncircled on the amusment park map; or left unfulfilled in the bottom of that list's bucket.
I guess we really dont know that answer. Our time is written on the side of our bottle in ink only God can see. And that is probably a good thing. For then it is up to us to make the most of what we are given. To ride the ride as often as we can. And to live not in fear of time that is dwindling, but in joy of experiences, on both sides of the roller coaster. To empty our buckets and cross off our lists in truest Virgo style, making the most of this crazy time riding down the other side of the mountain.