"Whoa man, fire is amazing...." -Liam |
Proof that I give zero craps about my birthday at this point in my life can be found in one fact: I scheduled myself a doctor's appointment on my birthday. I could've opted to stay home, or I could've gone out to eat at a restaurant, or anything else that would've been much funner than going to the doctor. And then when I got there I almost cried because of reasons and a shared birthday with my former doctor who just happened to pass away 3 years ago. Then I was all sad again because I was reminded of what a great doctor he was, and I had to come home and eat pie and even that didn't make me feel better. Pie can't heal all wounds, I've lived long enough to learn this.
I guess at this point I mostly don't mind that I'm getting older. I mean, my 20s were not nearly as good as my 30s so far. I have four perfectly bratty kids, a cute little house, a husband that does the dishes on my birthday, and tons of friends and family that I love. I don't appreciate the fine lines in the corners of my eyes, but what can you do? Maybe tomorrow when I wake up I'll feel 30 or so again, but either way I'm having pie for breakfast.
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