Today is my 25th-plus-5-days birthday. Which, if you're any good at math, means that my birthday happened last week! Yay.
You know how when you get older, you're supposed to not really care that it's your birthday? I totally still care. I still wake up with that funny feeling in my stomach, in wonder and awe that it's actually my birthday. That delicious thought runs through my head all day and gives me absolute freedom to do whatever. I. Want. To a certain degree, of course.
It was a good birthday. The forecast predicted thunderstorms. We had heavy humidity but breezy winds, and plenty of sunshine. No thunderstorms, thank you very much. My super thoughtful husband took me out for breakfast, the most important AND best meal of the day (though not necessarily the healthiest). We got the early bird special and a few extra sides because our eyes are bigger than our stomachs -- even at 25.
Wayne bought me tulips. I killed them with love -- a.k.a. mixing up my own flower food from scratch that ended up being toxic. Sorry tulips. I was alone at the office all afternoon doing computer work and blasting songs from the itunes Glee* radio station while bopping on my exercise ball and entering information about muscle spasms and levator scapulaes into patient charts. Oh yeah... I am rocking the chiropractor lingo. Just wait til I start talking about your rhomboids and quadratus lumborum.
I ate leftovers for dinner because I didn't want to cook. We drank Magic Bullet frappucinos on our back deck because Starbucks is silly and stupidly expensive. We watched episodes of Castle (which is an excellently crime-y type of show). I read a book out loud to my compliant husband because I wanted to. Yes, I like reading books out loud. My children will be forced to listen to many books out loud before bed time. I was brought up that way, and loved it. And they shall love it too. I hope.
And by the end of the day I was 25, and not quite sure how I felt about that. Because I'm pretty sure I just turned 15 last year. I'm hoping my brain (and maturity level) catch up to my actual age at some point. That'd be nice.
*Just a disclaimer that I'm not actually a fan of the tv show Glee. Tis a silly show. To be quite honest, I found the story lines to be... well... for lack of a better word, boring. Completely and totally. Unoriginal, too. The songs, though -- the songs I like. I love me some good harmonies!