I’m another year older and deeper in denial about my age. After much debate, my husband finally convinced me to take a day off. I have a whole day to do exactly what I want. Chances are, I’ll spend it working on all the stuff I don’t get to do because I work too much. But if I wasn’t one of those people who feels guilty sitting still, here’s what I’d really like to be doing. I think a fairy godmother may be necessary. And a few extra hours in the day.
I’ll wake up and the house will be miraculously clean. There will be a cup of tea waiting for me, and somebody will have brought doughnuts from Regal Bakery. I’ll eat at least two, and it will cause me to lose 10 pounds.
I’ll get a massage and a mani/pedi. Then I’ll come home and take a cozy nap, and no time will pass. I’ll lie on the beach and read food magazines for a while, then have a late lunch of wine and cheese at Formaggio Wine Bar.
Everyone I’ve ever shared a good laugh and a meaningful conversation with will gather together at Moose McGillycuddy’s for cheap drinks and cheeseburgers. I will be awesomely overdressed. We’ll laugh much too loudly and my husband won’t even be embarrassed by me.
Somebody else will bake me a Retro Yellow Cake with Fudge Frosting. We’ll eat it and pretend to be kids again. We won’t think for a moment about all of the things we haven’t done by the time we turn 36. We can do that tomorrow.
And if somebody could magically transport my baby in for the day, that’d be perfect.
Birthdays horrify me slightly. People pay attention to me, and I can’t decide if I like it or hate it. Either way, I’m going to do my best to relax and enjoy every minute of it. You only turn 36 once. Happy birthday to me. It’s gonna be an awesome year.