On Turning 45 (Or: On Finding Yourself In the Remainders Pile)

Happy birthday to me?

I wasn’t happy with myself the other night when I was still awake at 11:22 p.m. reading Miranda July’s new novel, All Fours, about a 45-year-old who takes a solo road trip only to give up on the first day and spend the weeks in a suburban motel, while on the eve of my own 45^th birthday and feeling like mid-life isn’t as much about giving up as it is giv…