Another birthday. Not crazy about the lines that seem to be multiplying on my face, but whaddya gonna do, right? Like they say, it’s better than the alternative.
I thought I’d share some words of wisdom, but I realized I can’t think of any. Except this: Don’t eat yellow snow. And this: A bird in the hand is better than two in your bush. Or something like that.
Thus far, I have celebrated by cleaning house, losing myself in Facebook birthday love for a while, fixing myself up a little and taking birthday selfies, which really just depressed me. Saturday night Michael and I went out to dinner at my favorite restaurant, and that was nice. Later, I will bask in sticky kisses, presents, cake, and maybe a cocktail or two.
Happy birthday to me.