Birthday eve's of yore.

[kudra]

When I was little, after weeks of getting ramped up for my birthday in the way that only children can, on the night before my birthday I would suddenly panic. I'd cry and cry, terrified of becoming older. I can't really imagine what that was like for my parent's. You can open a closet door and assure your daughter that no monsters dwell inside, you can tell her that the scratching at her window is only the branch from the birch outside...but there I was year in and year out having a crisis about TIME. I've been a weirdo, from the get-go. I'm still afraid of getting older, but at least now I know that how I spend the time that I do have is entirely within my control. I have plans for the next five year time frame, to try and cobble together a modicum of comfort and respectability. Get myself through schooling and starting paying down on a mortgage.  But for now, I will spend my birthday eve doing laundry and getting ready for my workday. I might just be scraping by, but I'm no fool- it's good to be alive.

"How we spend our days, is, of course, how we spend our lives."

~Annie Dillard