On my birthday, I went to the dentist; washed, dried, and folded 5 loads of laundry; didn't get around to reading my latest book; talked to my mother for half an hour, and she didn't even mention my birthday; and, as the final hurrah, started my period.
It was a great day.
I must be getting old when nothing "special" happens, and it was still a great birthday. No disappointment was attached to any of those events. On the contrary, it's nice to be getting needed dental work done; having the laundry under control is a great feeling; not having the time to read because I'm engaged doing other things is the least happy thing, but it's still not awful; my family's non-caring of birthdays is one of my favorite things about my family; and starting my period is a celebration of the fact that I am not pregnant and never again will be!
Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday dear Tamra ...
Happy Birthday to me!
(Oh, and 30 years old, please hurry it up! Thanks.)
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