And so another birthday approaches. Groan. Arrgh. Muthaf*cka.
Okay, okay I know I should be appreciative of it, but there's something about my birthday that irks me. I've yet to admit to myself what that might be.
I've never had the best of luck on my birthday. From early on growing up dirt poor in Brooklyn in a family rife with dsyfunction, there was disappointment at every turn.
As I grew older I mainly try to let it float by like a few dark clouds passing overhead. But mainly what I feel like giving to my birthday is this:
Especially as I grow older. Next year is the big "50" and I'm hoping to do something that qualifies as momentous, but for now for this year, its pretty quiet and hopefully under the radar.
I also hate the time of year I'm forced to celebrate. The Winter. Blah, Its bleak and cold and my skin is drier than normal which makes me feel older. How old?
Yep, that about sums up how it makes me feel.
Last year my other half took me away to the Poconos and we had an awesome time together. So I guess I should just reflect on that. Also, having myself a pity party doesn't make things better because I mean getting older, really, what's my alternative?
I should remain grateful. I just went to the doctor's yesterday and she gave me test results that indicate good blood pressure, normal ranges of cholesterol, etc etc.
I do have so many great things in my life worth celebrating every single day. Yesterday me and my boy went and had some Thai food and he gave me a beautiful card. Time spent with that small miracle of mine is priceless, it truly is.
And the other main reason I need to remain grateful and just celebrate is, next week is my brother's birthday and he isn't here to celebrate it.
And I wish he were.
