Like that day when Jane Darby's life was in the balance, today is one of those days when you feel the passage of time in the air. You feel the passing from one season to the next or, at least, the promise of change.
A year later, Jane Darby is thriving. She is beautiful and, like her mother, her smiley face emits a bright light.
I wished Jane Darby a wonderful day, and then I told Katie, "Let's not discuss how I am six months away from my 40th birthday."
Afterward, I did a little mental inventory - am I thriving? - and I found the following disturbing results:
I am not even close to being a published author.
But this woman is making $1 million a week.
I am not even close to taking a trip to Bora Bora with George Clooney.
I am not even close to getting Suze Orman off my case.
You know how some people have a retirement account?
I am not even close to being able to pay all my bills on my current hourly wage.
I am not even close to fitting into my skinny jeans.
I am not even close to implementing some fun mid-life-crisis strategies like buying a convertible or, like my idol, having a red-hot affair with someone way too young for me.
It's quite possible my goals for my 40th year of living have been a bit unrealistic.