Today is my birthday, and I am officially now 28 and Very Close To Being Thirty.
I can’t believe that I’m 28 already and I’m not particularly happy about it. When I was young I thought 28 seemed like an eternity away and just sounded so OLD. I also didn’t used to start sentences with “when I was young”. Saying that though, I kind of have two opinions on it. I don’t like my age when written down any more, but I feel perfectly happy with where I am and wouldn’t want to change it. I just looked back on my post from my last birthday and found I wrote almost exactly the same thing last year too, so I shouldn’t complain really.
I have received lots of nice birthday wishes by text and on Facebook and Twitter (and even in person, shock horror). It’s funny how you get special treatment and presents simply for having survived another year. I could be a horrible person (I’m not, I’m lovely) and I’d still get birthday cards. What is it that we celebrate exactly? “I like you, and am therefore pleased you were born, so will mark this day with gifts”? It’s nice anyway, and means everyone gets a special day during the year apart from the Queen who gets two and the people who were born too close to Christmas for it to really warrant two presents and who has enough money to buy two presents at Christmastime anyway, their parents should have thought about that when they were busily getting knocked up in March.
I probably won’t be doing too much for my birthday today, what with it being a school night, but I’ve got birthday cake and doughnuts to eat at work (paid for by me, tsk) and we’ll probably have a nice meal tonight. I’ll save the proper celebrations for the weekend when we’ve got friends coming down and we’ll be going to cowboy-themed Wild Fruit (insert Rawhide-music whip cracking noise here).
I’m off to contemplate my third doughnut of the morning now.