Exactly one week ago, I turned 40. It is a number that I am still trying to wrap my head around.

In a blink, around 50% of my life is over. It was a really hard fact to accept.

Maybe that was reason, on my 40th birthday, when I saw the pool in my hotel, I jumped in immediately and completely paid no attention to the $900 Google Pixel XL phone that was still in my pocket. Perhaps I was still trying to be young and careless — there is a pool, jump in.

And I needed a new phone minutes later that jump.

I am a husband, a father, an alpha to my dog, a house owner in the San Francisco Bay Area, and an engineering manager that gets paid a really decent living wage with all things considered. I worked hard for all of them. Most of the time, I am really happy of where I am and proud of what I have achieved.

But turning 40 had really triggered something that I had feared for awhile, probably since my late 30s. A dreadful “What If”.

What if this is it. What if my life has been planned out and there are no more surprises. Or if there is a surprise, I am either 1) too old to care, or worse yet, 2) too old to really be able to do anything about it.

And they both really bother me.

I am sure people who are in their 50s cringe at what I am writing here. “You are in your 40s, you are still young!” But “40” used to be a number that I’d describe my dad, and then my mom. And now me. And I start to panic.

Have I done half of the things I want to do? No. Have I been to half of the places that I want to travel? No. Have I…. No.

After a long night, I woke up suddenly and told myself that something needed to be done even if it was just something small.

Thus this blog.

This will be a blog that none of my friends or family know. Just a place that I can write down my thoughts. As honest as possible. I hope. Or if I am somehow too proud to even write the honest words to an unnamed blog. We will see how it goes.

Hey [my name], you are 40 and lets start to do something about it.