thirty six

At 3:40 this morning, I turned 36. I was asleep when it happened. There was a time when I wouldn't have been. Funny thing, birthdays. When we are tiny, our parents celebrate the arrival of each year that we have been alive and hopefully grown out of whatever exasperating phase the previous year of infancy or toddlerhood brought about. Then, as we turn 4 and 5 and 6, the thought of presents and chocolate makes us go out of our minds with anticipation, sometimes to the point of puking before the actual event even occurs. Then, the 18th birthday brings about the legality of getting wasted. For a few years after that, a sense of panic sets in. Things like the passport expiring without any stamps from exotic countries where pool boys are a plenty and a willing, bringing a shortness of breath and a quickening of the heart...because there was no pool boy, not because he was there beside you. And then, finally, the birthday becomes simply another lovely day. Instead of booking off the day after to recover, you book the actual birthday off work to celebrate by doing nothing. My 36th birthday brought with it a day of sunshine - rather unheard of 'round these parts as of late. My beloved went out and brought me a cinnamon bun - an exquisite baked good from the bakery below - my mouth waters at the memory. We went on a lovely hike and stood in a clearing overlooking the ocean and just breathed. We watched Friends (best show ever) and drank wine. We are looking forward to a pot of seafood chowder and home made bread that our neighbours upstairs are preparing ( and I don't even think they know it's my birthday). And the best part is I don't even mind getting older! I am fairly certain that no amount of money could bribe me to go back in time and relive those years. Note I said fairly certain. I mean really, what's having to relive youth if you come out a billionaire in the end? Actually, no. I've come this far in the lowest tax bracket - what's another 36 years of the same?

?

We may come back to that.

BUT, I am so content with life, happy to be me, happy where I'm at and all that other self help crap that I am damn happy to say that today I am one year closer to 40. After all, it's just a number. I'd be okay if that number, followed by a few zeros, appeared on my tax return, but as a representation of how long I've been traipsing around this earth, it's all good.

So, happy birthday to me.