updated to 2.8
Today is my birthday. I’m twenty-eight. I do not feel any wiser. I did wake up feeling a lot sicker than I was yesterday. (Hmm, “sicker” doesn’t sound like a word). My throat is aching, my ears are throbbing, and the drippage is decidedly gross.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMBER! HAVE A COLD!
I don’t have plans. I was supposed to work, but evidently I requested today off over a month ago and completely forgot. So my sister and I are doing dinner tomorrow night, instead. And I’m lounging around in my ugly red and white slippers watching the first season of Sex & the City.
I’m not throwing a pity party or anything (much) (despite what this might sound like), and I haven’t got a problem spending my birthday drinking tea and having lots of quiet reflection.
Or watching Carrie Bradshaw have a lot of quiet reflection (and a lot of sex, which I also cannot have).
I have high hopes for a fantastic year, filled with success and triumph and love. I’m determined. I will kick ass and take names. Watch me.
OK, I realize I’m late, but happy birthday! And while I’m at it… happy New Year!
I too am late, but yes, Happy Birthday!
Can’t wait to read about the kicking of asses and the taking of names.