Viewing the approaching Big Day with some trepidation and wondering if it is time to add 10 years to my age so people who ask will react with, “no way are you that old”. Fortunately I think I’m still good to go for another year because people still (thankfully) react with that comment.
I find I’m increasingly disinclined to want a huge fuss made of the event (or really desire any gifts)1. While still occasionally hyper-critical of myself (though not constantly hyper-critical – thanks therapy!), I’m nothing but amazingly content with my lot and definitely want for nothing. Okay, I could do with a shiny, new employer and that whole health thing could use improving. Oh, and a holiday please!
So it was a simple pub lunch with Heather and NotHeather today. I’ll be having another pub lunch with TeamCareerDeath next Friday (tried to have both groups at same birthday lunch last year: Did Not Work). And tomorrow sees a combined (belated) Thanksgiving/Birthday with beloved husband and beloved kidlets (turkey defrosting as I write).
And all is right with the world.
1I’m hoping this is not viewed as martyrish by those around me, because it is not at all meant to be that way. After all, I do try very hard not to be anything remotely resembling my mother.
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Considering the odds against which one triumphs every time a birthday comes around, I think celebrations are well justified, if not mandatory. But, like, it's all about you. Pxx