Birthweek

I've upgraded. One day seems hardly sufficient to contemplate the vast number of years I've been alive, so this year I'm having a week.

Yes, I am too old to care. Pfffffth to that.

Normally I strop and humph my way through the days surrounding my birthday in a fug of "nobody cares, boo, the last year has been a disaster" etc.

Not this year.

Last year I had a chronic neck injury and was abstinent from alcohol, and fun. So I did nothing for my birthday aside from a lunch, and felt very middle aged and rubbish.

This year I am celebrating nicely, with alcohol and good friends (as well as people I'm trying to be friends with who sadly seem to be resisting but I live in hope). While simply being another year older isn't all that, I do feel I need to celebrate my little girl arriving, my neck being cured, and my successful bid for an unsuitable gift.

Who's shallow and materialistic?

I did also have a relatively good shot at nearly dying so I do feel quite jubilant about still being alive.

Me me me me me me me me me me.

Wednesday is the actual anniversary of my birth. Just so you know. I'll be 852.