The dreaded B-word

It was my birthday today. I had almost forgotten until I was forced to offer the elliptical machine an answer about my metrics before being allowed to commence with 1.5 hours of gasping and sweating. Stupid nosy elliptical machine! It was supposed to be "ok" to get older this year because I was planning on celebrating my last day at my current job today, but they pulled the rug out from under me by "separating" from me 2 days early so instead I celebrated by going on a bike ride and having my chain literally snap in half 2 miles from the midway point. Man! I need to stop lifting weights! Either that or I need to stop buying 20 year old bicycles and deluding myself into thinking that grinding and clanking are a natural part of an uphill bike ride.

I remember my buddy Brenda leaving me a message on my 22nd birthday asking, "how does it feel to be 22? Pretty lousy, right?! Because after your 21st birthday, nothing fun happens, you just get older". She always had quite the unique perspective on things. I hope she never tries to volunteer at a suicide hot line.

She's right though. I think 34 is quite old enough. I'm done with the whole business of aging. Stop the clock! I want to get off this ride while everything still works and I can get by without botox.

I guess the upside of turning 34 is that I've had plenty of time to get used to moping about yet another birthday.

Well, that was a satisfying pitty party I just threw for myself. Please come back same time next year as the pitty party promises to be even grander!