Yup, tomorrow I turn 43 years old and that is a problem. Not because I am afraid of getting older or because I'm one of those people who broods about aging. In fact, I am largely enjoying my entry into middle age and have never felt insecure or regretful in regard to getting older.
Sure, there are some things I don't particularly care for, like my previously excellent eyesight slipping into the need for reading glasses. That's kind of a pain. I'm also not too keen on arthritis, although I have battled that since long before now in genetic fashion and am frankly lucky it isn't already worse. There are a few other things that kind of suck about aging, but in general I'm a pretty fortunate early 40's and have little I can legitimately complain about in my life.
So why does having a birthday tomorrow present a problem? Jump the degenerative cartilage to find out why I take my cues from Doug and Wendy Whiner...