Fuck. I’m 40

Yes I am actually 40 years old right now. 40. Fourty.

I had a little wobble the day before I turned 40 – this whole, shit I’m about to turn 40 and I don’t have a house, car, wife, kids, management job – not that I actually want any of them, but that didn’t matter on the last day of being in my 30’s. I was a bit miserable that day. Quite a bit.

Thankfully, I had the foresight to take my birthday off work, and my trusty sister had spare holiday, so after a morning of getting shit done, and opening a few cards/presents, I headed down to my favourite brunch spot, Casa Tua, in King’s Cross.

I love their breakfast menu – I went for the Big John which was a trio of Eggs Florentine, Eggs Royale and Eggs Benedict – though the parma ham was so amazingly tasty that I’d just have that on its own. And an orange, carrot and ginger juice – though don’t worry, I wasn’t on detox for my 40th birthday.

Then came Flight Club, which is darts where you play various games like Snakes & Ladders against your opponents, using the darts board – and it is all tracked and computerised.

Of course, I won – in fact totally kicked arse.

They even gave us a free hour for my birthday and a brownie, which was very sweet.

And in the evening – Blacklock.

Not the best photograph in the world, plus I was a little tipsy by this point. The steak I thought was a bargain – 300g of rib-eye for £18. I’ve had a few better steaks, but not many – and the chop sauce was just sexual, every bit as good as their gravy on Sunday.

Weekend Celebrations

Yeah, I dragged my celebrations out – almost quite literally wearing a 40th birthday tiara:

This is now my new Bumble profile photograph – and no, it hasn’t helped. Not sure why.

My sister had arranged drinks at Mare Street Market in east London – pretty cool place, we had a seating area for a few hours, half-decent pizza, good beer, a room full of chandeliers, a record shop (alas/thankfully mostly rock music) and a load of people looking at me strangely whenever I went to the toilet.

There were a lot of photographs. Guess who by?

Roast

Then on Sunday, my sister had also arranged my birthday roast. She’s such a star, my sister.

Various other good friends attended a roast – most of them enjoyed the roast more than I did though, I was rather critical of it.

The actual time was thoroughly enjoyable – not only did some gorgeous people make the effort from Reading – but my parents had come all the way from Hull that day to go for a roast dinner. Granted, not the first time they have done this, but it was a surprise to me!

Gifts & Cards

It wouldn’t be a birthday without gifts and cards – though the real gifts to me are friends/family spending time with me.

I did get some cash from my family which I never use nowadays as I pay for everything by card so will probably stay in my drawer for a year. Guess I could buy some drugs with it. Or maybe get off my backside and go into an actual bank, like old people do. I’m still young, right?

I got some damn fine birthday cards, a collection of my favourite thing from my sister, a fluffy flamingo from my mum (memory of our day at London Zoo last year) and a Gravy Princess t-shirt – alas, a size too small. But I will lose weight this year. Honest.

Conclusion

It’s now over two weeks since my birthday (in fact it is my Dad’s birthday today), and I’m not bothered about being 40. Possibly thanks to just how good my actual birthday was.

Best birthday ever?

2 thoughts on “Fuck. I’m 40

  1. Hello James, Thanks for your 40th Birthday blog. I loved reading about it. You’ve had a fantastic time celebrating with family and friends giving you a most precious gift, their time. So much different than mine, which was a telegram from my other half, who was frolicking in Norway. Your Birthday on the other hand was Magnifescent. 😊 Friends and Family James are there to cherish. Thanks again for sharing. X🌻

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