One week until my birthday comes up. One week until that number clicks over and I get OLDER. Age is just a number, so why do I dread aging? Maybe its also a bit because I have that clock tick tick ticking inside me, 32 is awful close to my baby deadline of 35. It's not all that, birthdays make me think of being a kid and getting lots and lots and lots of toys, with cake and a party.
I can't have cake, I am on weight watchers. Okay fine, I can have cake but only if you figure out how many points it is, and I can only have a little. I am not really fond of cake too much except for Portillo's chocolate cake. With lots of milk. Or strawberry filled cake of some sort with whipped cream and ... stopping the fantasy now.
Birthdays used to be an excuse to get together with friends. Now they are just days again. Dave says he is going to take me out for dinner. That's cool. I just have this sadness like I am missing out on something. Not stuff, because the last thing I need is more stuff. Just like I know I can never ever be young again.
Last night, when I took the dog out at midnight, I laid down in the driveway and made a snow angel. It hadn't been plowed yet, and I knew I wouldn't be laying in dog poop. I also knew it would be gone in the morning. I was covered in snow, but I loved it.
I guess birthdays make me want to stop and smell the roses. I work on my birthday, so no going out. I just think I am going to take that day to make everyone else feel special, like it is their day. They might think I'm crazy, but I have an excuse.
Go Shelley, its yer birthday!
1 comment:
Getting pretty sentimental in yer old age, whippersnapper!
My mom used to make low-sugar angelfood cake, top with strawberries n sugar-free cool-whip- pretty good, even if you're not diabetic! She had added cocoa to the whip-cream for chocolate sometimes, too!
Happy Day a week early.
Age is mind over matter- If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
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