My favorite number is 7. It’s a De facto favorite because that’s the day my birthday falls on.
And speaking of birthdays, I presume that as you grow older, the goalposts of what makes you happy on your birthday change. On earlier birthdays I was never satisfied unless I was celebrated, feted, given oodles of money and told Happy birthday about 50 times.
This day, I really just wish that my office could have said, no baby, you’re not going to have a long ass, completely pointless meeting on your birthday. Go ahead and make some plans with your friends. But alas they didn’t.
So I’m lying on my bed, planless right now, waiting for Godot to happen so I can finally get it through my head that today I turn a year older and that’s a good thing.
I suppose the goalposts have changed in that there are no goalposts anymore.
Happy birthday to me! I wish me a good life, great health, fantastic investments that give me continuous passive income. a future where I don’t pay rent for more than 15 years. I wish that people continue to smile at me, that the sun continues to shine on me and that by this time next year a lot of my dreams come true.