Birthday

Today's my long-time bestie's natal day.

Lots of people are upset about birthdays, especially when they get older, and it's not so much about the presents you get, but the fact that you're moving on in life. Maybe it's that they're not a fan of wrinkles. Maybe they're upset that they haven't been more productive with their time. Maybe it's a day of reminders to make them wish they'd made different choices and they could just rewind.

I haven't really been a fan of my own birthday for many years. I admit...I'm sneaky about it. I try not to mention it to people not in the family, and it's not on fb. I've even resorted to reverting to calendar years when I think about how old I am, and even tell people that I'm the year I will be turning, just so I won't have to do the mental calculation to figure it out.

On the other hand, my "new year" resolutions generally go by natal year. Last year was the "year of Me." I did really great for about the first six months and after that all my good intentions kind of went by the wayside. "Me" year was supposed to be building up myself, literally (going to the gym to rid myself of Pre-RS-arm syndrome) and figuratively, by broadening/deepening my confidence, my skill sets, and my ability to make decisions.

But I digress...as I usually do.

The point is: birthdays are not about you...exactly. They're about celebrating the fact that you have been able to spend another year with people who care about you.