I’m over the age of 40. There, I said it. I’m okay with being middle-aged; I really am. At this stage of my life, there are all kinds of things I get to do that I didn’t at the ripe old age of 20 or 30. For instance, now I get to wear two kinds of glasses at the same time—one for reading a restaurant menu, and the other for seeing people across the table. My social circle is ever widening to include all kinds of doctor and medical practitioner friends; sometimes I see several of them in a single week. These days, I can watch the Billboard Music Awards and rest comfortably in the fact that, with the exception of the Michael Jackson hologram, I’m older than every performer that takes the stage. And, now that I’m 40-something, I also get to enjoy young adult books.

Sure, I could have read and…