Birthday Blues
Hey, guys, today's my birthday. 54 trips around the sun mark my name, carve lines in my face, add timbre to my laughter. More than half-way there, if you go by conventional wisdom. We enjoyed a rare fruit torte at work, peppered by the anxieties of deadline. Yesterday I was so worried my palms were sweating and my sternum clutched up tight, dreading the next phone call. Today, optimism reigns. It is all about attitude. And at home, husband tim made no secret of working for three hours confecting a torte and a chicken schnitzel dinner. Phone calls from all over the place -- Dot and her Tarot cards fromVermont, and Dad from NJ singing in concert with Harriet, and Marina, wondering if we will come to NYC and see her tomorrow to celebrate. Lyn's flowers deck my table. Tim touched in with a pocketbook and wallet made out of seatbelts, supplemented by a flask of Jack Daniels. Who could ask for more? Frank and I went to lunch at Front Beach. I was sorry not to spend the day gambolling at the beach. Warm enough almost to swim. I feel special. For another hour, glowing. Went to MAC and the exercise class, wanting to winnow down to less corpulence. Am, and then, am not. November 10, a happy day indeed.
posted by yfa at 7:31 PM
1 comments
