When I was a kid there was absolutely NOTHING in the world better than my birthday. Birthdays meant waking up to a pile of presents on the kitchen table, it meant running to the mailbox and grabbing a rainbow colored, fistful of envelopes with my name on each one. It meant a cake with ballerina's, Shirlee temples and probably homemade pizza. It was my day.
I have not given up on this idea as the numbers of candles on the cake have increased. It is still ALL ABOUT ME. Granted, there is usually no table full of presents, no pinata, and maybe not cake, but usually I expect some first-class spoiling from the husband and family.
Today is my birthday, and so far it has been a world-class flop. Not to any fault of the people I love, but because tragically, it is so not all about me. Today we received some information that could hugely impact our day-to-day life. I must be cryptic at the moment, and be assured nobody is sick or dying, and I am 100% not pregnant. This information is, (can you imagine?) bigger than Rachel-Fest 2009. Go figure. And now I wish I could schedule a due-over birthday.
All in and all it has been a difficult day.