I had a quiet birthday, which is what I wanted. I am waiting until next year to go all out for the big 3-0 celebration. I went to work, came home, and just spent time alone in self-thought and analyzation. It’s the truth. Anyway, thank you to Mew, April, Lesa, Angie, Aunt Jackie, Deborah, and my parents for the birthday cards and calls. They were deeply appreciated.
The main reason that I didn’t want anything special is probably because I just have too much on my plate, with the #1 thing being the move out of here. I also have to deal with the move at work and all the other stuff that is going on there.
Anyway, age is just a number, right? It not about how old you are, but how old you feel. In that case, why do I feel older than I really am? Something to ponder over
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