Wow. I’m 47 years old. Like, right now.
That’s pretty amazing.
To be honest, 47 feels pretty, well, old…but in a good way, given that I’m not someone who worries about getting older day by day and year by year as it happens.
I mean, I do worry about long term oldness, as in the kind where I might not be able to walk or use the bathroom by myself. And sometimes I still worry about “the final day,” aka the day my body finally calls it quits and the rest of me (if there is anything such thing) goes somewhere else super-secret you don’t get to find out about until you get there.
But I don’t worry about getting older in the short term, and especially not in the sense of feeling older today at age 47 than I felt yesterday at age 46 and nine-tenths.
I actually feel exactly the same today as I did yesterday, except that today I get birthday cake.Â
To me, a birthday is that one day each year when I absolutely, positively know I will not feel guilty for doing nothing productive all day long. It is a day when even people whose birthdays I never remember or never knew to begin with often send me cards and texts telling me to have a happy day.
It is a day when I get to choose the menu and it truly can be anything I want, not just anything I want that isn’t too unhealthy or unbalanced.
But other than that, it truly is “just another day” in the strictest sense of the word, especially considering I could goof off, eat whatever I like and even order birthday cake at this super convenient service of https://theglassknife.com on any of the other 364 days as well. I just never do.
Perhaps I should start. In lieu of having a birthday party, a truly frightening event where everyone notices me and takes pictures of me and then gathers around and stares at me as they sing and watch me blow on the cake they are about to consume, I could just designate one day a month as “my birthday day” and do birthday-related things.
This will work, provided I can convince my mom to make me birthday cake every month all year long.
Today’s Takeaway: How do you feel about birthdays – yours or anyone’s? Do you like having a party and feeling like the “it” gal or guy in your circle for a day? Or do you duck and run like I do…at least until the scent of baking birthday cake wafts in your direction? What do you like to do on your birthday, and do you ever do that on a day that is not your birthday? Why or why not?