41

Tomorrow I will be 41 which in some ways feels worse than turning 40 because at least 40 is like, oh well, you were in your thirties less than a year ago so it's not that bad. The rest of the ways it feels worse than turning 40 is due to 41 being a larger number than 40.

That said, I don't feel much different now than I did a year ago. Shaving takes more effort these days. Not because my beard is any thicker, but because more of the whiskers are white making them harder to target when I'm using the mirror.

I did fall into the AFL's floating-fixture marketing trap of watching football today because it was going to shape the ladder at the end of a season I didn't watch many games during. The Bulldogs were playing and the first thing I saw were goals by West and Croft, on the back of clearances by Liberatore. And some big Darcy was running around too. Had I time travelled? Was I twenty again!? I thought. No. No it was much worse than that...

I also watch a couple of episodes of the rebooted King of the Hill and all that sharded together was not good for my chronometer.