At this point in my life I kind of like getting older. I don’t love the web of wrinkles spreading across the backs of my hands, but I have no problem admitting my age or owning it. It feels like an accomplishment.
So when I say it’s my birthday and I’m having a shitty day it’s not because I’m bummed about aging. It’s just a stressful month at work and things are slipping out of my hands like I’m carrying too many dishes to the sink and some just dropped and shattered. Silly things like getting confused about teacher workday at Oz’s preschool – I thought it was today and arranged for childcare all morning and then I got an email this morning reminding me that it’s actually tomorrow. So I guess tomorrow I’ll just take the morning off and stay home with my kid. But I’m still annoyed that he missed school today.
Anyway, these are little things, nbd, just the fact that it is my birthday makes it seem like a tragedy. And Gimli is out of town on my birthday for the 3rd year in a row which I have to admit does kind of bum me out.
Sir Terry Pratchett died today, so that clinches it – I’m gifting myself the Tiffany trilogy on my Kindle. RIP Sir Terry.