It’s my 37th birthday today.
Not the age. The number.
Such an ugly number.
I don’t mind getting older. I have nothing to hide. I don’t LOOK 37 and I certainly don’t ACT 37, so why should I worry about being 37?
I’m not worried about it at all. Bring it on, I say!
But gah. That is the most unattractive number out of all the numbers. Therrrteee sevvvven. Blah!
But that’s okay. I’m embracing this ugly age and rolling with it. And doing as much non-37-year-old stuff as I can fit into my schedule. I’m talking Disneyland. And cookies and cake and playing with my friends til after my bedtime and going out on the town to a big fancy dinner and all the other stuff that you’re allowed to do when it’s your BIRTHDAY.