I turned 40 yesterday. In the manner of Macbeth, I had imagined the event with such dread as it approached that I endured its arrival with equanimity.
In some ways life is as it was twenty years ago. I live in the same flat. I have no responsibilities. No job, debts, boss, employees, property or children. On any given day, I can wake when I want and do pretty much what takes my fancy. I am still with the same partner and wear the same size jeans. Since relationships and waistlines occupy so much space in lifestyle magazines, that must count for a lot.