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>42photo © 2010 Lisa Risager | more info (via: Wylio)

Yesterday, I turned 42. Other than the blast furnace heat levels we have here in Phoenix, nothing special happened (on second thought, there’s nothing special about the heat–just the way it is). I still got up, bleary-eyed, in search of coffee, and muddled through.

I mean, come on, Douglas Adams, I thought 42 was the “ultimate answer to the question of the meaning of life, the universe, and everything.” I think you lied, because I didn’t wake with Bruce Almighty-like powers; on the other hand, no one was trying to bulldoze my house to put in a bypass. And the planet is still here.
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