Happy birthday to me
I have been MIA for a week or so and I appologize. I have just been flat out lately.
Work has been piled up. I’m not quite sure why, but by the end of the day, my brain has leaked out my ear and I go home and stare at the wall until it’s time to come back to work.
Also, this freelance proofreading project will never end. I mean, I’m happy to do it as long as they’re happy to pay me for it, but they keep telling me the project is over. And then sending more files.
I’ve been pretty good with the exercising, getting out the door only 5 or 10 minutes late. I did skip yoga last night because I was just that tired (and I had a pile of proofreading waiting for me at home).
But today is my birthday and I woke up in a good mood. I haven’t been looking forward to this birthday like I usually do, so I was glad to be happy (if that’s not too convoluted).
Someone advanced a theory that when things are good in life, you don’t mind getting older or dread the future. That’s a happy thought.
But work doesn’t stop for your birthday.
I got in and had to update my story on the high school volleyball team (No. 1 in the league!) and then write a profile of a prominant civil rights attorney who died this week. In the middle of that, James asks me to do him a favor. I blow him off till I’m done writing (and I swear, I have never heard my phone ring so much!) and ask him what he wants. He asks me to get something out of his glove box. I say fine, secretly wondering why he can’t do this himself, and go out to his car. In the glove box is a card and a packet of peanut M&Ms. I think my silly grin lasted about an hour.
And I just have to record, for posterity, the poem on the card:
I love your face —
I love your feet —
And all the rest.
My life’s complete!
