44 is a big number somehow. Today, I just feel old. I remember being excited about birthdays and cake and a party, but I guess that kind of stuff goes away when you're a grownup - you save it for the kidlets. However, tobight I will have a nice dinner at home with my family; my Mom is coming to visit as well. Tomorrow, GMajor is taking me to see
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I'm sorry you're feeling blue, on today of all days. I'd forgotten your father had passed on your actual birthday, which is so spectacularly crappy it would annoy me if it happened in a book.
Forty-four isn't bad, and if it helps to you know it at all, you don't even look forty. However old you feel, that's how old you are, I guess. Up until recently, I was pretty much a steady fifteen-to-twenty kind of guy; since the bout of pneumonia I have mornings where I feel like a creaky sixty-year-old (but farts are still funny, so, fifteen).
I hope your day passes well, and that you are properly feted at some point, and that cholocate is involved.
Happy birthday. :-)
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There was indeed Balzac's and although no muffins, butter tarts were involved. In a few minutes I will stuff my face with linguine and clam sauce, which is ridiculously yum-filled. I imagine there will be some chocolate to follow. (Next weekend, there is a chocolate and tea tasting - I *love* this town!)
How old I feel is connected to how well things are going - when I'm up, I feel 20; when things are hard, I feel 60.
The whole 44 thing feels a bit surreal. I don't know when I actually *have* felt my age. Weird, that.
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And I'm also sorry about your dad.
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