Today I’m celebrating my 49th birthday.
To be honest, I'm spreading the celebrations out a bit - I kicked things off with a Sunday roast at Cousin Nick's house. This morning, I had a call from my parents and a few texts and messages.
This evening, I'm in Brussels. I'm here for a couple of days for work. I'm about to head out to a colleague's place for dinner. I had told him that it was my birthday today, but when I saw him this afternoon he seemed to have forgotten. I'm taking a bottle of champagne with me to jog his memory.
I'm not a huge fan of birthdays at the best of times, but 49 doesn't feel particularly momentous - I'm happy to let it slide by under the radar.
Age is undeniable. I catch myself in the mirror and don’t immediately recognise myself. My beard seems surprisingly grey. Even when I clench my stomach muscles I can’t conceal my middle-age spread. Policemen look alarmingly young.
But time marches on - there's not much you can do about it.
I think I’ve probably had my mid-life crisis. These days, I seem to be able to muddle through most things without too much drama.
49 feels okay. I’ve got my health, a winning personality, good friends, and a family who loves me. 49 feels okay.